


Lovers Come and Lovers Go, Lovers Live and Die Fortissimo

by FangirlMess



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Breakups, Canon Compliant, Everyone's character arc, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Good Parent Marvin (Falsettos), HIV/AIDS, Hospitalized Whizzer Brown, I may have also listened to a good amount of Queen writing this entire fic, Jason's a wing man, M/M, Marvin & Trina Friendship (Falsettos), Marvin (Falsettos) Being an Asshole, Marvin Not Being an Asshole (Falsettos), Marvin's character arc, Mendel is a terrible psychiatrist, Mendel is second best stepdad, Mourning, Post-Whizzer Brown's Death, Realistic Versions of songs, Sassy Whizzer Brown, Tight-Knit family, Trina deserves better, Whizzer Brown & Jason Bonding, Whizzer Brown & Trina Friendship, Whizzer Brown Deserves Better, Whizzer is best stepdad, Whizzer likes Queen and you can fight me on this, Whizzer's Death, awkward marriage proposals, different POVs, happiness, lesbians next door, marriages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26762824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlMess/pseuds/FangirlMess
Summary: Um I suck at these, but here it goes. I've been sitting on this idea for a while, what if I basically just took the songs from Falsettos and made them each their own chapter? Some songs I'm cutting cause I've got no idea how to do them and would like to keep my sanity. Others are gonna be 2 songs in one chapter. Also this is majorly long so we're in for a long ride. There's gonna be a lot of different POVs throughout as well, and it'll be indicated in the notes of the chapter.I'm pretty sure this isn't a super original idea, however, I'm gonna do my best to make it my own. Namely, I'm giving Whizzer a bit more backstory and more of his POV. We get some in Falsettos, but we can always have more so, here you go I guess.Thank you for reading in advance, this project has already turned into my baby so please be nice.The art in both Chapter 1 and (upcoming) Chapter 30, was done by @blueskyart (on both Instagram and Tumblr) she was so nice the whole time, and she's a very talented artist.(~~~~~~~~~ is POV shift, the line is scene/time change)
Relationships: Cordelia (Falsettos) & Everyone, Dr. Charlotte & Everyone, Dr. Charlotte/Cordelia (Falsettos), Jason (Falsettos) & Everyone, Marvin (Falsettos) & Everyone, Marvin/Trina (Falsettos), Mendel Weisenbachfeld & Everyone, Trina (Falsettos) & Everyone, Trina/Mendel Weisenbachfeld, Whizzer Brown & Everyone, Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Comments: 100
Kudos: 50





	1. Whizzer Goes Down(town)

**Author's Note:**

> (Whizzer's POV)
> 
> Most of these chapters are gonna have the song names for titles, however the first is gonna be other titles cause it serves as a prequel, (I guess it's In Trousers time period? I have only heard Whizzer Going Down from In Trousers, so I'm really not sure.)
> 
> Is this name stupid? Probably, but I came up with it at 1 am, where all my worst (and best ideas) and seem to come from.
> 
> I just sort of decided that Whizzer was Marvin's first everything with a man cause, idk, it makes their relationship more interesting. This chapter was also pretty darn fun to write, Whizzer is definitely an interesting character to write from the perspective of, I'm a little used to Marvin at this point.
> 
> I plan on updating about every weekend, minus this chapter because I was working on it while planning this whole thing out, and I'm going to do my very best to stick to that, though school is a pain in the ass so I may not always post, sorry 'bout that.
> 
> Kudos and Comments are both greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy this chapter! : )  
> \- FangirlMess :)

11/4/77

Whizzer sauntered down the dark streets of downtown New York City, absently running his hand through his wavy, dark brown hair. He pulled his leather jacket tighter around himself. The evening was slightly chilly, but it didn’t hinder his spirits.

_Maybe he’d meet someone worth it tonight_ , he thought brightly, smiling slightly, _it’d been a while since he’d had a good fuck._

Arriving at his destination, a popular New York queer bar called Frög Pond, a place he’d been frequently going to for the past year or so, he opened the door. The smell of cigarettes seemingly smacking him square in the face as he walked in, along with the blasting music.

His eyes swept the room as he moved through the bar with natural poise and charm, taking in the faces that were illuminated by the colorful disco lighting across the bar. Most were new to the Pond.

Then he spotted _them._ Kevin and Conner.

It seemed like they virtually inhabited the Frög Pond. He saw them every time he came here, sitting on the ridiculous, heart-shaped “couple’s seat” of the bar, always kissing softly, and holding hands and doing all those cliché couple things.

Whizzer's face involuntarily twisted into a grimace. He didn’t want _that._ Whizzer Brown didn’t have _boyfriends._ He wanted sex and games; wild nights, unforgettable highs, one night stands in the city lights – he wanted it all. But not _that._

His gaze moved on, finally reaching the bar. Immediately his eyes were drawn to a man who stuck out like a sore thumb, turned just at an angle that Whizzer couldn’t make out his face. He stood awkwardly by the bar, clutching a bottle of beer from he had barely drank.

Whizzer was intrigued, _who was this guy?_

This man had to be gay, he wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t, but he certainly didn’t dress the part – with slacks and an atrocious plaid button down shirt.

_Ooh, this will be interesting,_ Whizzer thought to himself, _he's got to be_ _a closeted guy._

Having chosen his target for tonight, he sauntered over to the man and turned up his charisma to eleven. 

He leaned nonchalantly against the bar, tapping his fingers to Queen's new song _Don’t Stop Me Now,_ and shooting a side glance at the man. Being as on edge as he seemed to be, the man immediately caught Whizzer's eye, making him smirk.

He turned to him casually, tilting his head curiously.

“So what are you doing in a place like this?” he quipped, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music blasting from the speakers. "Definitely haven't dressed the part!" 

This man was very much Whizzer’s type, with big blue eyes, and a defined jaw, and soft, curly light brown hair. 

The look on his face was priceless too, he looked so surprised, like he’d been caught doing something naughty. Oh, this man was _definitely_ closeted. 

“Was I _that_ obvious?” he deadpanned. 

Whizzer gave the shorter man a very obvious once-over to that god-awful shirt, before looking up and nodding. 

“First time in this kind of bar?”

The stranger nodded before taking a long sip of his beer and avoiding his eyes.

“Well, since you’re new here, how about I show you the ropes? My name’s Whizzer; Whizzer Brown.” he asked, flirtatious smile now on full display. 

The man slightly flushed. Clearly no man had ever flirted with him. This was shaping up to be a _very_ interesting night…

“Sure.” he said after a long moment. “My name’s Marvin," he added, almost like an afterthought. 

“Well then, _Marvin_ ,” he said nodding in his direction, “care to dance?”

Whizzer held out his hand enticingly, smiling the smile he knew drew anyone in. And Marvin was that _anyone_ tonight. He grabbed his hand with some hesitation. Whizzer took the beer from his other hand, placing it on the bar.

Leaning closer, he says in his ear seductively, "We won't be needing that."

He heard Marvin's breath hitch and, resisting the urge to smirk in satisfaction, pulled back and gave him a million-dollar smile before dragging him towards the raging music.

Standing in a crowd of rowdy, sweaty and drunk men, Marvin looked around, seeming to be analyzing it all, obviously not used to the flashiness. Whizzer smiled in spite of himself, it was almost cute. 

The song switched. Whizzer realized after listening for a moment that he recognized the song playing, _Killer Queen._ It was one of his favorite songs.

He grinned wider and moved his body expertly to the beat of the base. Marvin joined in, somewhat awkwardly at first but getting the hang of it pretty soon. 

* * *

By the next song, Marvin was grinding on Whizzer.

He seemed finally to have relaxed, having grabbed onto his hips, swaying against him to the time of the music. They stayed that for what felt like forever, until Whizzer realized how warm it was in the bar and that his pants were beginning to tighten.

He stopped Marvin to take him back to the bar and put his jacket down. Marvin grabbed his hand as they walked out of the crowd. _Again_. 

_Oh he didn’t think this was gonna be permanent did he?_

That was a conversation for later, but Whizzer Brown doesn’t do relationships, he doesn’t have _boyfriends._

Laying his jacket across the nearest chair, he sat down, and Marvin followed suit, finally letting his hand go. 

“Hey Mark!”

"'Hiya, Whizzer?"

“Two glasses of Tadpole Martinis, pronto!”

"Two glasses of Tadpole Martinis comin' right up!" 

Whizzer grinned when Mark subtly gestured at Marvin and winked, already used to his regular shenanigans. Whizzer looked back over at the said man only to see his focus drawn to his smile, to his lips.

Marvin looked up at him the second he caught his gaze, but Whizzer had seen it.

Taking the hint, he leaned over, not breaking eye contact as he whispered suggestively, “What do you say, after a few drinks, we go back to my place... and I can show you some more of the _ropes_?”

Marvin’s eyes widened almost comically at the brazen question and he went red before he nodded hurriedly. Before the two could say anything more, Mark returned, two drinks in hand. 

He saw Marvin look at the fruity drink with a weird look on his face. And then it clicked for Whizzer, he’d probably never gotten a cocktail before for fear of not being masculine enough. Whizzer decided that was Marvin's problem as he sipped his own drink. If he didn’t drink the free drink he’d bought him, he didn't care. 

Marvin looked at him for a second before following suit. His expression morphed into apprehension to happiness as he realized he in fact liked this ‘feminine’ drink. Whizzer's lips twitched behind the rim of his glass. 

* * *

Half an hour later, Whizzer was sufficiently drunk when he saw Marvin staring at his lips again, biting his own absently. He’d lost track of how many times his gaze had lingered.

_Did he think he was being subtle?_ It was almost laughable but Whizzer didn't mind. 

He tipped his head back to finish the last of his cocktail, this time a Lilypad, the bar’s special for the night. Finally deciding to indulge Marvin, he leaned over and layed a light kiss on Marvin’s lips, one he knew would make him beg for more if he had guessed Marvin’s type right. 

Marvin looked stunned as he pulled away slightly. Whizzer smirked as Marvin shook his head slightly and leaned in. 

Whizzer roughly grabbed his face and kissed him back equally as rough, tasting the alcohol on his lips, before taking Marvin’s hands and putting them in his hair. If this man didn’t know how to kiss another man, he would show him how. Marvin’s hands roamed through his gelled hair, ruining the style he had put it in, but Whizzer didn’t care, not at this moment, he was more focused on kissing the man in front of him, showing him exactly what he had been missing for all this time. 

Marvin let out a slight moan and Whizzer smirked against his lips.

He moved away just enough to ask him, “Ready to go now?”

Marvin just kissed him again in response, his actions needy. Whizzer did not need to pull away as he took out his wallet, selected a few bills and slammed them on the bar. He grabbed his hand once they came back up for air and led him towards the door.

Glancing down at their intertwined hands, he noticed Marvin’s left ring finger at a tan line that could only be made by a wedding ring. So this man _was_ married? Is _still_ married? He pondered it for only a second before the thought left him. _What did he care?_ _He was just looking for some fun tonight._

Marvin let go of his hand as they stepped out of the safety of the bar, and Whizzer hailed a taxi. Soon enough, one pulled up next to them and Whizzer clambered in. Marvin stumbled in after him. He turned to face Whizzer. 

“How’ll I find you again?” he asked, slurring slightly, attempting to be quiet of the potentially privy driver. Whizzer thought about if he wanted to see him again for a second, before inwardly shrugging, _Hey, what the hell, why not._

Whizzer rolled his eyes at his caution. He knew the driver wouldn’t care. It was the downtown, after all, he knew the kinds of people who hung out here.

Whizzer reached up into Marvin’s shirt pocket and grabbed the pen sticking out of it. He put his other hand out and Marvin looked at him confusedly before understanding and putting his arm out. He rolled up his shirt sleeve, took the cap off, and began to write his phone number down on the inside of his arm.

So his wife couldn’t see it, if he even had one anymore. 

Thus began one of the strangest relationships Whizzer had ever been in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a fun game in this chapter called spot the McPricely reference, it's definitely not hard, but I thought it was funny so there you go I guess. Also I am McPricely trash so I do not apologize, it's my favorite ship I think besides Whizzvin.
> 
> Also, on the name of the bar...I asked for ideas in a group chat of my friends at about 2 am and that's what I got. Though, one of my friends lives in New York City and she approved, apparently most places in New York City have weird names, so *shrug.*
> 
> In case no one has told you this today/tonight/recently, you are loved and you are appreciated. <3 : )


	2. Four Jews in a Room Bitching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So in this chapter I tried to come up with a way for this song to make any realistic sense so, after thinking for like a day, (this was like the first idea I came up with actually, not sure why), so I decided, why don't they get into a fight at the synagogue and so this chapter was created. I'm not sure if I succeeded but I certainly tried and it was certainly fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Trina's POV)
> 
> This chapter has got everything:
> 
> Jason hating his family except Whizzer, Trina absolutely wishing she could just not, Mendel being an actual awkward mess, Whizzer being a sassy shit but also being soft with Jason, Marvin being an actual asshole (but are we really surprised?)
> 
> I'd like to say I related to Trina on like a spiritual level and her perspective is interesting to write from (Am I gonna say this for every POV? probably), the sort of quiet observer.
> 
> This chapter should have been posted last weekend but I ran out of time and posted Marvin's Jacket instead (which has become the thing I've written with the most kudos so thank you so much for anyone who did do that, it absolutely makes my day :) ) And my brain decided that working on chapter 25 and 26 was a good idea and so I have written most of like 3 separate chapters this week because my motivation just went through the roof. 
> 
> Anyway, enough of my ramblings, I hope you like this chapter! : ) Kudos and Comments are so appreciated as well!
> 
> \- FangirlMess

1/3/79

Trina quietly walked up the steps to their synagogue, clutching Jason’s hand as she did so, him very begrudgingly staying behind with her as they both followed behind Whizzer and Marvin, who had taken the lead. She shivered slightly but was grateful for the rather thick jacket she’d put on. 

She watched the two men talk rather loudly, and noted that it seemed like they were arguing. _Why did she care though?_ She was too tired for her ex-husband and his boyfriend’s shit. 

_It was almost comical how different the two men in front of her looked_ , she thought while still quietly observing them.

Whizzer was tall, wearing a fitted black suit, his hair styled back precisely. He had the perfect posture too, which only added to his looks. Whilst Marvin was shorter, somewhat stout, with his curly hair barely brushed, and his suit ill fitting and a muted green color. Trina was honestly surprised Whizzer hadn’t tossed that sad excuse of a formal wear; she’d wanted to for years. 

This was all shaping up to be an interesting day and it had barely even started. 

She knew Whizzer didn’t really wanna be here either. He was, as he said, _only half Jewish_ , he went to Catholic mass normally if he went anywhere, and his expressions every Saturday said it all, that look of confusion and, eventually, boredom. But Marvin didn’t take no for an answer, thus why she was also trudging along behind him, Jason in tow.

Following her husband – _ex_ -husband – through the tall double doors of the building, and holding the door for Jason, she tried to paste on a smile at all the regulars. However, she wished she was anywhere else, next to an erupting volcano would be much better. She trudged through, though. She's got to continue to play her role. 

Looking around, she realized suddenly that she’d lost the other two men. 

Well... _shit_. 

She looked around while still walking down the aisle. 

“Jason honey, do you see your father?” she queried, turning to look down at her disinterested son. 

He seemed to decide to humor her and looked around himself. 

“There!” he said, pointing to the back where she could see Whizzer's head above the other people milling around.

At least he had that going for him, he was tall and easy to identify in a crowd. _And he caught the eye of her husband_ , she thought bitterly.

Jason pulled on her hand, wanting to find Whizzer faster. She quickened her pace to try and keep up with the energetic kid, less she lost him there too.

Soon enough, they reached the end of the aisle. Both the men moved after seeing them approach, allowing them to get into their seats. Trina sat down, leaving enough room for the other three before realizing Jason had opted to stay standing to talk to Whizzer about _something_.

Trina didn’t have the energy to deal with her son though, so she just stared at the brown hardwood floor at her feet, thinking about all the places she’d rather be than at a place of worship with her ex-husband and his boyfriend, and her son who ignored her. 

* * *

“Hey Marvin, fancy seeing you here!” Trina heard a cheerful voice exclaim.

She looked up suddenly, curious as to who this new person was. 

She saw the person who had spoken was a rather short man, probably an inch or two shorter than her, seemingly about her and Marvin’s age, wearing a button down shirt and slacks, and with curly black hair much more manic than Marvin’s. 

She also saw that Marvin was looking at this friendly stranger with a look of contempt. 

_Oh no. Why couldn't she just have a drama-free day?_

“Mendel, what are you doing here?” Marvin said to the man, scarcely containing the malice and slight confusion in his tone. 

_Oh!_ She knew who he was, her husband- _ex_ -husband’s psychiatrist; the one he’d been seeing for years. 

“I um, I moved, so I switched temples. I didn’t know you went to this one.” The cheerfulness in his tone had dissipated somewhat at Marvin’s attitude. 

Marvin only nodded and Trina wanted to roll her eyes. He was such a child, hell _Jason_ acted better than this. Marvin’s psychiatrist, Mendel, looked around at the few people around Marvin, seemingly trying to identify them all, before his eyes darted to Trina. 

He snapped his finger, his eyes lighting up, as he clumsily climbed into the aisle she was sitting in and reached his hand out for her to shake. She looked at him, startled at his dramatic amount of energy, before extending her hand. He smiled brightly at her and she returned his smile, it being genuine for once. 

“You must be Trina, Marvin’s wife-” he coughed awkwardly before correcting himself, “ _ex_ -wife. Marvin said you were coming by my office tomorrow, correct?”

She nodded, surprised that he even noticed her, and smiled again, people always tended to overlook her.

Mendel glanced around once more to take in the other people before his eyes landed on her son. 

“Jason?” he said, climbing out of the aisle and extending his hand again.

Jason nodded boredly, holding his hand out like a limp noodle for Mendel to awkwardly shake. _God, she’d have to work on that with him, socializing didn’t seem to come easy for the boy._

After getting nothing else out of Jason, Mendel laughed awkwardly and looked around. Trina saw his eyes catch on how physically close Whizzer and Marvin were, how it almost looked like their hands should be together, not awkwardly by their sides. Though they fought, anyone who saw them together would probably peg them as a couple. Mendel's eyes lit up again, he had picked up on it. 

_Oh boy,_ she thought. _This should be... interestin_ _g._

Mendel stuck his hand out again towards Whizzer and he obliged him, firmly shaking his hand. 

“So you’re Whizzer?” Mendel asked, if not stated, sounding as though he’d finally pieced together a 1,000 piece puzzle, finally having met all the people he surely heard about frequently from Marvin in therapy. 

“Yes, I’m Marvin’s boyf-” Marvin grabbed his arm suddenly to stop him from speaking. 

“Shh, don’t say that here!"

They all looked at him, startled by his outburst. 

“What is so wrong with that word?" Whizzer, rolled his eyes, shrugging Marvin’s hand off of him. “So, you go to the same synagogue as your therapist?” he said, eyes crinkled up and a smirk on his face, seeming to find it rather hilarious.

Marvin looked offended, puffing out his chest in a way Trina could only describe as like a blowfish. It would have been rather funny if she didn’t know Marvin well enough to know that that was how he acted right before starting a fight, and Whizzer seemed more than prepared to engage. _As always_.

“You _know_ why.”

“Oh, do I?” he asked, fake confusion injected into his tone.

_Oh no, oh no, oh no. Why couldn’t she have one normal day? Why was this something that they were going to fight about? And why here?_

She gritted her teeth and looked away, not wanting to be associated with these clowns. 

"Why does it matter?" she heard Whizzer grit out.

"Guys, er, let’s not fight..." Mendel tried to intervene but his words fell to deaf ears.

Then Trina heard Jason join the fray, his higher voice sticking out. “Yeah, dad!”

She tried to block out their raised voices, resuming her staring at the stained bit of the floor near her seat. _How long had that been there?_ She touched the discolored spot with her shoe, desperate for something else to concern her attention with. 

Though she tried to not listen, she still heard bits and pieces.

“Well it’s not my fault you’re acting like a child!” 

“How dare you say that word here, someone could hear!”

“Oh poor, _poor_ Marvin…”

“Guys, please…”

 _Bury me alive_ , Trina thought, her face heating up as some people stopped to stare. 

It had been several minutes, and they had somehow gotten louder. What were they arguing about? Ah yes, one fucking word. Finally having had enough, Trina stood up from her seat and carefully walked through the aisle towards where the three men and one little boy were standing together. 

Mendel appeared to have given up on trying to stop the fighting, though his hands were still raised in front of him. Marvin looked scandalized, his eyes wide as he looked straight at Whizzer who was looking at him, his chin up in defiance, holding his ground. Jason was standing next to Whizzer, looking like he was enjoying the spectacle, eyes looking from Whizzer to Mendel to Marvin and back again, probably one of the most interesting things he'd seen at a synagogue.

" _Would you four stop bitching_?!" Trina asked loudly, thoroughly fed up with their shit and glaring pointedly at all of them. 

They all looked at her, startled.

The argument died in their mouths when they all realized how loud they were – Marvin realizing that he was drawing much more attention to them by arguing – before they all got themselves together and followed Trina back to their seats.

Mendel walked back across the building to get to his seat, his shoulders slumped and feet dragging. He seemed to have lost a bit of his energy, Trina noticed. He probably thought he was the reason Whizzer and Marvin started fighting.

Her eyes followed him, intrigued by him.

Marvin sat down with a sigh next to her and she looked on, anywhere but at him. Whizzer sat down next, resting his hand lightly on Marvin’s thigh.

She glanced at his hand. _They always displayed such casual affection, that’s all she ever really wanted, and Marvin did it so willingly with Whizzer, but never with her._

“Hey Whizzer?” she heard Jason ask. She glanced over. “Wanna play chess when we get back?” 

Whizzer had turned to face him.

“Sorry buddy, I’d love to, but your dad and I have gotta go back to our place when we get back, maybe another time,” he smiled sadly. Jason looked disappointed to say the least.

Trying to quell the situation, Trina moved forward towards them, “I’ll play with you when we get back, Jason.” 

“Okay,” he said, still looking disappointed. 

Before she could say anything else, the Rabbi began speaking and everyone went quiet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is still a slight homage to the original song but I really couldn't use like any of it in a serious context. 
> 
> Later chapters are definitely gonna change that, especially next chapter, but I hope you still enjoyed it nonetheless.
> 
> In case no one has told you this today/tonight/recently, you are loved and you are appreciated. <3 : )


	3. Tight-Knit Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for awkward tension between Whizzer, Marvin, and Trina cause they sure aren't.
> 
> Mendel is so weird to write and yet I enjoy every second of writing his awkwardness. I actually see a therapist so I tried to make the therapy scene as realistic as I could even with the sorta strange dialogue. 
> 
> Also, Trina and Whizzer sort bond this chapter and I will make them friends eventually, I don't care if they barely interact cannonically, that's bullshit, they definitely made fun of Marvin together in 81' when him and Marvin get back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Trina and then Whizzer's POV)
> 
> I promise we get some other POVs, so far it's all Trina and Whizzer but next chapter Marvin finally will get a voice, the little prat. I meant to give Jason and Marvin POVs in this but that didn't quite work out so I hope this still works. 
> 
> Also sorry for the lack of update last week, I did not have my shit together, but next week (fingers crossed) I will have my shit together enough to post. I am pretty excited to write Thrill of First Love though so probably. 
> 
> Kudos and Comments are both greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy this chapter! : )  
> \- FangirlMess :)

1/4/79

“Hello! Sorry, we’re late for dinner; the traffic was bad!” Trina yelled into the house as she took her keys out of the door and walked over to the coat rack to take her jacket off. Jason followed her inside, sulking.

She walked into the living room, hearing no answer. She glanced around the room and saw no one. Weird, normally Marvin would be pissed by now that she wasn’t home. 

Jason crashed onto the couch, moodily picking up the remote and flipping through the channels. 

Curiously, Trina opened the door to the kitchen and her eyes darted around the rather large room, immediately widening.

Whizzer was sitting on _her_ counter, his long legs wrapped loosely around Marvin's torso, her ex-husband’s hands in his hair as they kissed passionately.

_Oh not again._

She coughed awkwardly, wishing she could unsee what she had just seen _again._

Marvin let go of Whizzer immediately and looked at her, startled. He said nothing to, his face going slightly red at having been caught, but deliberately not addressing it. He moved away from the counter so Whizzer could jump down, and handed her plates to put on the table.

Whizzer adjusted his shirt and tried to fix is mused hair casually, not as awkward as his boyfriend who had already stalked out of the room, probably to stake out his spot at the table even though no one was about to take it. 

He glanced at Trina for a moment looking like he was going to say something to her; before he grabbed the linguine from the counter and strolled out. She followed wordlessly, carrying her stack of dishes.

The silverware was already at the table when she sat down meaning she wouldn’t have to make another trip to grab them. _Oh._ She suddenly realized what had probably happened before she and Jason had arrived. Whizzer and Marvin likely started setting the table and gotten _distracted._

She shook her head. She was never gonna get that image out of her head, was she? Not with them consistently reinforcing it.

“Jason!” Marvin called from his seat at the head of the table. Jason looked up before sulking over and plopping down with a loud sigh next to Whizzer who ruffled his curly hair and he seemed instantly to brighten slightly.

Trina sat as far from the other three males as she could on the other head of the five-seater table.

They ate in mostly silence, save for Jason and Whizzer who were now talking animatedly, Jason’s bad mood all but forgotten. She watched slightly jealously. 

_How did he get along so well with him? He’d only known him about a year and she’d known him his entire life, and yet he barely spoke to her._

She thought back to what had put Jason in such a rotten mood as she stared down at the contents of her plate: going to see Dr. Weisenbachfeld; or Mendel as the psychiatrist had insisted she call him. 

_He had beckoned her in, saying as Trina walked in, “Sit down my dear, I hear you have a problem.” She nodded, sighing at what her ‘problem’ was._

_“I’m sure you’re not disgusting or indiscreet…er…” she looked at him funny. He made a face going slightly pink at his own wording, almost like he was surprised it came out of his own mouth. He gestured awkwardly to the footrest next to her chair. She got the gesture and put her feet up._

_He sat down in the chair next to her’s._

_“Happy or sad?” Mendel asked._

_She thought for a moment, she wasn’t sure how she felt in all honesty; her life had fallen apart and she did not know where to begin._

_“Well, I-” she was interrupted._

_“That’s a question with no answer,” he said, gesturing wildly with his hands before pulling out a notepad. Such a strange man, though there was something about him that intrigued her._

_“You must relax, Trina, my dear.” She stared at him, he’d remembered her name. She smiled slightly before nodding._

_“Marvin once told me, ‘love isn’t sex,”’ she trailed off, glancing at him. The tips of his ears went slightly pink at the frank mention of sex. “You’ve seen him for years..?”_

_He nodded, clicking his pen quickly a few times, and wrote something down._

_She stared into space for a long while, thinking. “Do you only treat queers?” she asked._

_“No, just Marvin,” Mendel chuckled before looking at her sincerely. “Breathe deeply, I hope you’ll find you find me understanding.”_

_She looked into his eyes and he looked away pulling at the piece of fabric that had come undone on his chair. She tried her best to take a deep breath._

_“Put your head in my metaphorical hands,” he said, holding up his hand and waving it slightly at her. She cracked a smile at this and he smiled back._

_“I was supposed to be everything he wanted,” she sighed, looking at the painting on the wall across from them. He nodded slowly, writing something else. “I still remember the day we married, the date was set, October 20th, my father let us. But I was never his, it’s time I put it all together, I think I knew it all along deep down.”_

_She turned to look over at Mendel who was looking at her, seeming almost enchanted by her presence. Their eyes met again and his eyes looked warm and caring and - she looked away this time. Stop it, Trina, this is your husband’s shrink._

_“But then he came home one day, sat me down, told me he had syphilis, that I might have it too. I shrugged it off. I didn’t know what it was, but I never did research it, I didn’t want to know… I was so stupid,” she mumbled, putting her head in her hands._

_“I took care of my men, I tried my best, I kept going on. But then, he sits me down again, tells me he has hepatitis too.” She shook her head, laughing to herself. “Good god, I was so stupid.”_

_“Trina, you’re a lovely girl, you’re not stupid!” Mendel tells her reassuringly._

_She glanced at him. He floundered, intent on getting her to see, and she tried to believe him, nodding slightly._

_She continued on, “So we stopped having sex...well, we didn’t have much, to begin with...but. There were all these signs that I just, didn’t think about; refused to. After I caught them in the den though, there was no denying it, I had married a gay man, not just a gay man, but a gay man who had cheated on me with a man named Whizzer Brown.”_

_Trina sighed shakily, biting her lip to stop it from quivering. “I loved my husband, sorry ex-husband, I really did, he just, never loved me. Doctor, I don’t know how to cope with that.”_

_Mendel was quiet for a moment, shifting in his chair and writing once again in his notebook. Eventually, he stopped and fidgeted with his cardigan._

_“Well they say that love is blind, that it’s unkind, and spiteful in a million ways,” he said slowly, looking up again._

_Trina nodded numbly; Oh did she know it._

_“But,” he went on slowly, “they also say it can tell a million stories. Love can be beautiful Trina, you’ve gotta move on, find someone else.”_

_She didn’t know what to say to that, people weren’t this nice to her, they don’t care what Marvin’s wife has to say. His words touched her. She chose to just keep talking._

_“He used to put valentines in my coats, try to fix our marriage, I guess, towards the end of it.” She smiled slightly at the memory before it turned bitter. “It didn’t work.”_

_She noticed him check his watch before closing his notebook._

_“I’m sorry Trina, but my next client will be here soon, so that’s all the time we have today. Will I be seeing you next week?” Trina nodded, positive she wanted to see this man again._

_She stood up and he followed her quickly, reaching out to shake her hand as she thanked him._

_She had liked Mendel, he was very nice and he listened to her, it was so refreshing… And he had kind eyes._

Suddenly she realized she’d been staring at her plate for five minutes, deep in thought. She glanced up, looking first at Marvin who has invested in his linguini before glancing over at Whizzer who was smiling as her son talked. 

They both looked so happy. She wished she could be happy at these godforsaken dinners Marvin still insisted on having instead of counting down the seconds until her ex-husband and his boyfriend finally left her house so she could have some peace. She glanced back down at her plate.

~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes Whizzer wondered how he got in this situation. After all, he’d been adamant when he first met Marvin that he didn’t do boyfriends, and yet, that was definitely what he was to Marvin.

He never thought he’d be sitting with his lover’s kid and ex-wife, eating dinner, and he never thought he’d want to leave a situation more. He glanced at Trina out of the corner of his eyes.

She was staring down her plate like it held all the answers to solve her mid-life crisis. She seemed to sense his gaze and looked up at him. He quickly averted his gaze. 

_Why did Marvin drag him to these damn dinners?_ He glanced over at his lover and squeezed his thigh. Marvin jumped slightly at the sudden touch, glancing over at him before giving him a look that said _not now,_ though he didn’t move his hand away.

“So, uh, Trina, how was Dr. Weisenbachfeld?” he asked, trying desperately to cut the tension in the room. 

She looked over at him, startled. “It was…” she paused as if trying to think of the right word, “interesting.” 

She made no further comment and went back to looking down at her plate, and Whizzer was left to flounder with nothing else to say. 

He thought, maybe they weren’t so different, they both didn’t really wanna be here.

“Seemed quite the character on Sunday,” he said to her, though partially to piss off Marvin and partly to try and fill the awkward silence. 

Then she looked up and nodded and smiled slightly. A look passed between them and they were completely on the same page for once. He cracked a smile back but she’d already resumed looking down at her food. 

Yeah, maybe they weren’t so different after all. He squeezed Marvin’s thigh again who squeaked indignantly. Marvin put his hand on top of his and he pulled his hand quickly away. They don’t hold hands, that’s not what they do. Marvin huffed indignantly and Whizzer rolled his eyes, glancing at Trina one last time before resuming eating. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my favorite thing in this is that Marvin squeaked, I forgot I wrote that until I was rereading it last night. 
> 
> And my friend who graciously edits all my garbage like the angel she is, found Mendel's last name cannonically being Weisenbachfeld absolutely hilarious so there's that. 
> 
> In case no one has told you this in a long time, or even in an hour, you are loved and cared about, and life can always get better, I promise.


	4. The Thrill of First Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is just, two horny fucks fight as foreplay and we love that. 
> 
> Also finally a POV from Marvin and he is..a fucking prick, as to be expected. Hoping I captured the ~vibes~ of this song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Whizzer and then Marvin's POV)
> 
> Sorry this is late but this chapter intimidated me so I started it late. Also for anyone in the US, hang in there, we're gonna make it through this. This is terrifying for me too but deep breaths, we're gonna be alright. As Stephanie J Block says, "everything will be alright." 
> 
> I hope this chapter does serve as some sort of distractor cause it definitely served as one to write. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always greatly appreciated!!
> 
> \- FangirlMess

1/10/79

Whizzer heard the lock turn on the front door, and sat up on the couch, fixing his shirt. Marvin was home.

He heard Marvin march into the living room where he was. Whizzer's eyes followed his lover, watching him fling his jacket on the couch next to him.

“ _Really_?” Whizzer asked incredulously. “Pick up your clothes.”

Marvin walked further into their apartment to set down his briefcase and said nothing.

“Uh, _no_ , your ugly ass jacket stays off _my_ couch.” Whizzer said, throwing it over the back of the couch where it belonged: the floor. 

“Whizzer begs,” he heard Marvin say to himself not very quietly. 

“I can _hear_ you.”

Marvin shrugged, returning to the den. “Shave your legs.”

Whizzer stuck out his chin. “No.”

“You’re a prick, you know that?” he said, walking up behind him on the couch and picking his jacket up from the floor and folding it. 

“Oh and you’re a walk in the fucking park.” he said, turning to face him. 

_“You_ , sir, are fucking impossible. Can’t believe we’ve been together nine months; surprised we haven’t killed each other yet.” 

“ _Ten._ ” Whizzer looked at him annoyed. _Seriously, this shit again? Whatever._

“Nine.” Marvin stared straight back, not backing down.

“Ten.” _Oh we really are doing this huh?_ Whizzer gave him a look that said, _oh you are on_. Marvin smirked.

 _“Nine_ months.”

“Ten month- oh whatever did you make dinner?” Whizzer was startled by the sudden change in topic. He knew Marvin wouldn’t let him win that easy though, so he kept his guard up. 

“Yeah, it’s in the oven,” he answered, rolling his eyes.

Marvin just nodded and moved over to rub his shoulders, and Whizzer, despite knowing this was probably a trap, couldn’t help but relax at the touch, trailing his finger up and down Marvin’s arm. He _had_ been rather lonely all day.

Whizzer glanced down at the other side of the couch noticing that Marvin had put his jacket back on the couch, albeit this time at least it was folded. He picked it up, and Marvin let go of him in favor of looking at what he’d been looking at before rolling his eyes as Whizzer’s eyes raked over it for the thousandth time, a look of disgust on his face.

 _“Why_ is everything you own _vile_?” Whizzer said dubiously. Marvin just rolled his eyes, causing him to raise his eyebrows. "Why can't you be a good gay man and share my devotion to _style_?"

Marvin flinched at the jab. Whizzer knew that it was a sore spot for him, but he honestly didn't care. 

"You mean your unlimited knowledge of _dreck_ ?" he bit back and this time Whizzer flinched. _Little bitch._ He sneered. 

Marvin opened his mouth to say something but just then the timer went off in the kitchen startling both men. Whizzer reacted first, sitting up quickly from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. 

Whizzer opened the oven to remove the casserole, the blast of heat hitting him square in the face. He _hated_ cooking but Marvin threw a fit when he didn’t come home to dinner on the table so today he’d given in. 

Hearing footsteps in the hallway he turned around, hands braced against the stove top. 

Marvin walked into the kitchen, coming up to Whizzer and leaning up to kiss him to which Whizzer obliged, before pulling away slightly to mess with his tie. 

“That’s it,” he said to Marvin, breaking the silence, “I’m buying you new clothes, no more of this, _wash-and-wear._ ”

Marvin said nothing, instead looking up towards the ceiling as though asking the heaven to lend him strength to deal with Whizzer and his _style._

“Why don’t you buy me flowers?” Whizzer asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Marvin could only hear because of how close he was. He unlooped his red tie and pulled so that both sides of it were the same length. 

Marvin looked up at him, heartbeat speeding up.

“Roses?” he breathed, looking into his eyes and leaning down to kiss him. 

“Duly noted,” Marvin said daftly. Whizzer rolled his eyes and pushed him away. _And he had ruined it._..

He went to walk to the other side of the kitchen but Marvin grabbed his hand, pulling back around. 

Whizzer was flung back, and, breathing heavier than he was moments before, leaned up towards Marvin. _Oh we’re doing this today, alright._

“Hang up your clothes, Marvin,” he said, face inches from his. “Breeding shows Marvin,” he glanced down for half second at the blue plaid button down shirt his boyfriend had on. 

“Remember how we met?” Marvin said ignoring his comment, close enough that Whizzer could feel his breath brushing his face. "We fit so perfectly, like a glove.”

Marvin lacked the art of subtlety and the implications of his words were very clear. Whizzer’s face flushed slightly. 

He did remember the night they met, rather clearly considering the large amount he’d drank that night. It was a night he kept coming back to as well. Where would he be if he had not met him, not seen the man who stuck out like a sore thumb at that bar, and taken it as a challenge? He didn’t know. He didn't want to know.

Marvin flipped him around so that he was now in front of him, grabbing a hold of his hips. Whizzer leaned into him. 

“You know,” he said, his voice getting hoarse, “I’d kill for that passion again.” He knew he’d hit the right button when he ground his hips into his backside and bit his ear. 

“Ow!” he hissed. 

Whizzer flipped around to face Marvin who grabbed his face as if to kiss him. Whizzer leaned in, before realizing Marvin was looking at something on his neck. 

_Fuck. He’d told Jaxon to not leave a mark but clearly he hadn’t listened._

He made a noise of discontentment and quickly dodged Marvin, opting to return to the living room.

~~~~~~~~~

Marvin followed his lover as he stalked from the room, still wondering what’d he’d caught sight of on his neck. It had looked like hickey but Whizzer had moved before he could really look. _So it was definitely a hickey._

Why couldn’t he just _stay_ monogamous, was that too much to ask for? 

“Why is it,” he began as he walked back through the den to see Whizzer standing behind the couch staring at him, “that you can’t save yourself for me?”

Whizzer scoffed and Marvin’s blood boiled. 

“Leave me then,” he said, nonchalantly, knowing he would never. _And he was right._

“Love me?” he said softly instead, and Whizzer gave him a pointed look, picking up his jacket to fold. 

“Don’t be a fool,” he told him, and Marvin glared at him again.

“Want me," he said simply. That’s _all_ he really wanted.

Whizzer laughed slightly. “Feed me.” 

“Oh fuck you, you’re so _cheap_ ,” Marvin spat.

Whizzer looked up and crossed his arms across his chest, clearly offended and maybe even… hurt? What did he care? It was true, what Marvin said. 

“I’ll do what I want. Fuck you, Marvin.” The hurt on his face gone, only to be replaced by anger as he walked around the couch. 

“Ah yes, let’s both fight, Whizzer!” Marvin shoved him back, both of them breathing heavily as walked towards him again.

Whizzer, much more gently, shoved him back onto the sofa and he fell onto the blue couch, the tie only hanging loosely around his neck swinging slightly.

He walked around the couch putting his hands on his shoulders to return the favor from earlier and Marvin blatantly stared at his ass. 

“Not now, you horny fuck,” he heard Whizzer mutter and chuckled a little bit. His lover knew him too well. 

One would think that the anger would last longer but it never did. This was what they always behaved – they fought, they never apologized, they moved on, they fucked. _Hopefully_.

“Can’t believe we’ve been doing this for nine months,” Whizzer said, leaning down towards Marvin, a smirk playing at his lips. 

“Ten.”

“Nine.”

“Ten.”

“Almost a year,” he whispered. Marvin held out his hand and Whizzer took it, letting him lead him around the couch to where he sat, prancing slightly as he did so. 

Whizzer had said he didn’t hold hands, but when was he consistent anyway. 

Marvin’s hand drifted to his thigh and Whizzer instinctively moved it only for him to put it right back. Whizzer opted instead to grab his other hand and pull it around his shoulders so that he could kiss him. 

Marvin closed his eyes, his lover’s lips soft as they always were, even when spewing insults and taunts. 

Suddenly Whizzer pulled away, murmuring “That’s it.” He stood up to walk away. 

Marvin reached out and grabbed a hold of the waistband of his pants. Whizzer turned back around, a hunger in his dilated eyes echoing in Marvin's own. He flung his hand off him, grabbing his tie at the same time and chucking it across the room. 

Marvin approached him again, turning him around and pulling at first two buttons of his already partially unbuttoned shirt, running hands up and down his chest. Whizzer leaned further against him, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs. 

Whizzer spun them around, letting go of his leg and kissed him passionately, Marvin reciprocating urgently. They spun slightly on the spot, both trying to lead before Marvin won, and pushed Whizzer down onto the sofa. 

Whizzer looked up at him, eyes full of lust and longing and passion, his mouth slightly open. Marvin ripped open his shirt. The look in his eyes only intensified as he sat up urgently and grabbed Marvin’s hand to drag him in the direction of their shared room _._

 _Guess no living room sex today,_ Marvin thought with the only still _slightly_ logical part of his brain. 

Whizzer turned as he reached the end of the hallway, letting go of his hand to fiddle with his belt buckle. Marvin reached down and yanked it off, it landing somewhere in their room. 

In turn Whizzer reached up and undid his shirt, untucking it manically and pulling it off his shoulders for it too to be flung across the room as well.

~~~~~~~~~

They both stood surrounded by several messy garments of clothing, flushed faces inches from each other's as Marvin shoved Whizzer towards the bed, the other man eagerly obliged and fell down easily, legs wrapped around Marvin as he lay on top of him putting his hands in his hair and leaned down into a passionate kiss that Whizzer eagerly reciprocated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Not now, you horny fuck," Whizzer is such a hypocrite, as he too, is a horny fuck. 
> 
> In case no one has told you lately, you are loved, you are appreciated, and it always, always gets better. <3


	5. Marvin at the Psychiatrist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As someone who sees a psychologist (not a psychiatrist actually, a psychiatrist is someone who prescribes medication which is a bone I have to pick with William Finn), I hope I got this right. 
> 
> As I'm sure you are aware, Mendel is being extraordinarily unprofessional here, though at least the first part is reminiscent of what therapy is like so there's that. 
> 
> This has also got Mendel and Marvin's POV, as well as Whizzer's. most of Whizzer's serve as the part 1, part 2, and part 3 scenes in the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Whizzer, Mendel, and Marvin's POV)
> 
> This chapter is actually pretty long in comparison to my other chapters, so cool I guess. 
> 
> Also, I had a thought recently cause I've been listening to In Trousers a lot recently (which I super recommend, it's really good and super underrated) Does anyone remember that Marvin canonically has a bird? Cause I did randomly and decided it’s name is Tweety because Jason named it at age 6. Also Trina got Tweety in the divorce. It hates Marvin and Mendel and Marvin hates it right back, they have stare downs. But it loves Whizzer because his shirt was the same color as it when they met. It hates Cordelia for absolutely no reason and she’s always trying to get in his good graces, but loves Charlotte who does not like it. She started thinking Marvin was cheating when the bird started saying stuff Whizzer and Marvin would say during sex. (come on Tweety, snitches get stitches) Anyway, may have drawn Whizzer with a bird chilling on his shoulder. 
> 
> This chapter took me forever for some reason, as why it was only posted today, but I can still (probably) finish chapter 6 by Sunday. 
> 
> Also, as a follow up from last chapter: We made is through this mess of an election!!! No more Cheeto starting in January!!! When I saw the news I nearly cried with relief, I hope all Americans reading this are feeling similar. 
> 
> This fic is already nearly at 300 hits??? How?? And when I was about to post chapter 4 it was at nearly 200?? You guys are amazing, it makes me so very happy that you guys seem to be enjoying my fic! :)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!!
> 
> Kudos and comments absolutely make me week, if you feel my writing is deserving of it, it's greatly appreciated!
> 
> \- FangirlMess

1/11/79

Marvin slammed the car door shut, glancing briefly over at Whizzer before he quickly climbed up the stairs two at a time to Doctor Weisenbachfeld’s office.

Whizzer trailed behind leisurely, adjusting his jacket as he went, his breath visible in the cold January afternoon. He was only here because Marvin had promised him dinner out, and it was a promise he better keep. 

When he finally reached the clinic, Marvin was already sat on the faded green couch, tapping his knee with his palm. Whizzer took a seat beside him, huffing as he did so. Ignoring Marvin, who very obviously rolled his eyes at his dramatics, he glanced at the selection of magazines laid out messily on the coffee table in front of them before picking one to his liking. 

Crossing his legs at the knees, Whizzer settled back in the chair, flipped to the first page and began to read just as he heard Mendel open the door.

“Alright Marvin, ready to come in?” he heard Mendel ask and Marvin must have nodded.

Whizzer glanced over at his lover who stood up quickly and straightened his jacket sleeves. 

_At least he had finally ditched that god awful tie_ , Whizzer thought to himself and the door to Mendel’s office slammed shut. 

_Marvin at the psychiatrist: with how melodramatic he was it might as well be a three part mini opera._ Whizzer snickered slightly at the thought before shifting in his spot slightly and turning the page. 

~~~~~~~~~

Mendel sat down, pulling his notebook off the table next to his seat. He grabbed his pen from behind his ear and clicked it. 

“Alright Marvin, what are we gonna talk about today?” he asked, turning in his seat to better face his client.

Marvin shrugged, saying nothing, and shot a brief side-glance at the door leading to the waiting room before resumed staring ahead. It was a glance he thought had gone unnoticed, but Mendel had seen it. 

_Ah_ , Mendel had figured out where to start today.

“Do you love him?” he asked rather brashly, and Marvin appeared startled, breaking from his trance to look at him in surprise.

He masked it quickly, returning to a look of indifference before shrugging and answering, “Sorta kinda.”

Mendel hummed. “Do you _need_ him?” he asked, leaning slightly forward towards Marvin.

Marvin thought for a moment before answering, sounding less sure of himself than Mendel was accustomed to him being.

“Sorta… kinda?”

Mendel nodded slightly. He was about to ask something else when Marvin began again, a slight smiling ghosting his face. 

“He makes me smile a lot, especially at dinner, makes me feel like I’m smart sometimes.” 

Mendel nodded again, writing, _Loves him, makes him happy_ , in his notebook. 

“Is he special?” he asked, a hint of a smile on his face as well. 

Marvin answered almost instantly, “He’s delightful.” The slight smile appeared more prominently on his face as he spoke. 

“And romantic?” Mendel posed. 

Marvin nodded before his expression soured. “And spiteful.” He paused, “But I think I can be too.”

Mendel wondered if Marvin ever stopped to think about what he said in his office. He genuinely seemed to love this man, the way he spoke of him was really quite romantic, and yet, Marvin seemed blind to his own feelings. 

Romantic relationship advice was not his forte unfortunately, so Mendel thought for several moments about what advice he _could_ give Marvin. 

“How about,” he paused to make sure Marvin was listening, “you do your best to enjoy what you like about him – the romantic, delightful parts.”.

Marvin nodded, seeming unconvinced. He stared off into space for a moment. 

“He’s sorta stylish,” he said suddenly. 

Mendel laughed at that. Now that he’d met Whizzer, he knew that that much was an understatement.

“Kinda _very?”_ he asked, still laughing slightly. 

Marvin conceded with a nod of his head. “Very, very...” he trailed off and glanced again at the door. 

“He’s,” he paused, thinking, “hard to describe.” 

Mendel nodded, noting this down. 

Marvin remained uncharacteristically silent. Mendel decided after a minute to move onto something more comfortable to him.

“When’s he’s naked,” he started, and Marvin answered immediately. 

“Yes?” he asked. 

“Does he thrill you?” he glanced up at Marvin from his notebook, who looked rather happy at the topic change.

“Yes,” he stated quickly, assuredly. 

Mendel nodded to himself and continued on with his rapid-fire questions. 

“Is he vicious?” he asked and Marvin answered quickly again. 

“Yes.”

“Would he kill you?” 

Marvin startled, thinking for a moment, before answering quietly.

“Yes.” Mendel began to write as he began speaking again, looking rather thoughtful. 

“He’s sorta kinda mean. We trade insults constantly, it’s what we do. I-I don’t know why, everything’s an argument, even how long we’ve been together; it’s _ten_ months, by the way. And everything’s a _game_ to him,” he sighed, lost in thoughts for another moment. 

Just as Mendel was gonna ask something else, Marvin began again.

“I love him, I think. I _do_ need him" he said, finally really answering Mendel’s questions from before. “If he told me the same, I’d conceit it. But he _doesn’t_ ... Like I said, _everything’s_ a game to him.”

Mendel is pretty sure that isn’t true, he’d noticed even today, Whizzer’s eyes on Marvin as he stood up, watching him go, for example. They both just seemed so _oblivious_. Lying to each other and themselves.

“So, he’s sometimes worthless-” he led with. 

Marvin quickly responded. “He’s sometimes _evil_.”

Mendel quirked an eyebrow at that. 

_He hadn’t seemed evil per se the two times he’d now seen him, bitchy maybe, but...huh._

“Sometimes smarmy…” he trailed off at the dirty look Marvin was sending him. One that said, _hey, only I’m allowed to call him things like that._

~~~~~~~~~

Whizzer yawned, covering it with the back of his hand, before adjusting his jacket. He wondered how much Marvin talked about him to Mendel, for the doctor to almost immediately pick up on who he was at the synagogue. He wondered if they were talking about him now. 

He sighed and turned the page of his magazine, shifting in his seat to try to be more comfortable on the old, ratty couch. 

~~~~~~~~~

“It’s queer Mr. Marvin,” he said or rather exclaimed. Marvin gave him another very dirty look, clearly not liking the joke as he took off his jacket in favor of slinging it over the back of his chair. 

“ _Whoooops_ ,” Marvin rolled his eyes, mumbling, _Jesus_ , under his breath. 

“It’s strange Mr. Marvin," he began again, “You’ve always described your wife, ex-wife as ice.”

Marvin looked confused. “Yeah and?”

“Well I wouldn’t say ice per se-”

“No?”

“No. She seemed quite nice, a wonderful woman really…” he stopped at the confused look on Marvin’s face. 

“She really _moved_ me with her story,” he crossed his legs tightly, trying to dispel how tight his pants had gotten in the last minute or so. 

“At her first session, she made a rather good impression. She came here about Jason, but I wish Jason’d act out more, there’s more we need to discuss.”

Marvin nodded, looking rather uncomfortable but Mendel didn’t notice, too wrapped up thinking about Trina. 

“Well,” he said, trying, for the moment, to keep the conversation about Marvin, “you always described her as withholding, as ice.” 

“Right,” Marvin said with certainty. 

“Well then perhaps she tried to hold back her love from you, like your mother did," he observed.

Marvin stiffened at the mention of his mother and looked at him questioningly, “Did she really?” 

Marvin’s parents were a touchy subject for him, he hadn’t spoken to them in years, and so Mendel tried not to drag them into these sessions unless Marvin did. He just couldn’t help but notice the similarities between his ex- Trina, and his mother. 

“I only know what you and her both told me, and she was not ice, she was very sweet, talkative, _very_ nice." He coughed awkwardly, and twisted in his chair to stop what was becoming a straight up boner. “Not really how you described her normally, as cold and disconnected.” He watched Marvin’s reaction with interest, his face moving even more into confusion at this. 

“Was she faithful, and be objective, completely?” asked Mendel.

Marvin, though seeming confused and irritated by the question, answered nonetheless, “Yes.”

Mendel nodded. 

“You wanted to impress her, correct?” he asked, trying to remember if he’d recalled correctly what it was he had said about meeting her for the first time. 

“Yes, but I very much did not," he scowled. 

He nodded, writing that down as an aside. 

“Did she sweat a lot?” he asked suddenly, and Marvin, completely caught off guard, looked at him in surprise.

“What?” he asked, his eyes wide.

“Was she ruthless?” he had not succeeded in ridding himself of his problem, seeming to only make it worse. His face felt quite hot. 

“Huh?” he asked. Marvin looked even more confused, even slightly scandalized. 

“Narcissistic?” he tries, Marvin seemingly more baffled than ever. Mendel took no notice though, he wanted answers. 

“Who-?” Marvin was annoyed. He seemed to have sort of figured out who, but didn’t seem to like his answer. 

“How about we vary the mood?” he asked, adjusting in his seat again. 

Marvin looked still annoyed but now relieved. “Yes. _please_.”

Mendel looked straight at him.

“Does she sleep in the nuuuuude...?” 

Marvin shook his head at his ridiculous antics, saying a disappointing, “Nope.”

“Well,” he started again. “I have questions… They should probably go unanswered, but questions nonetheless.”

Marvin was looking at him exasperatedly.

Mendel however, didn’t see this social que to shut up, asking anyway. “Does she wear a negligee? One that could, you know,” he gestured with his hands, “Blow away.”

He produced a handkerchief to dab at his now rather sweat covered face. 

Marvin was at a loss for words, just staring at Mendel, mildly dumbfounded in his interest in his ex-wife. 

He glanced at his watch, noticing they only had five minutes left. 

So, he started, and Marvin looked mildly wary of him.

"This session is nearly over, only about five minutes left. So, what is going on with _you_ ," he asked, shifting yet again in his seat and leaning slightly closer to his client. 

Marvin looked at him incredulously. “Oh, now you wanna hear about me?” he deadpanned. 

Mendel shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course!” 

~~~~~~~~~

Whizzer had finished his magazine, and dropped it back on the coffee table where he found it, searching for another one. 

Finding one that seemed interesting, he flipped through the first few pages. Satisfied with what he saw, he picked it up. He glanced at his watch. 

_Huh, he’d been here nearly fifty-five minutes. The time had passed quicker than he had thought it would._

His gaze wandered to the closed door and once again he couldn’t help but wonder what all his lover talked about in that room. 

_Well, nearly time for dinner,_ he thought to himself, and turned his attention back to his magazine. 

~~~~~~~~~

“My son’s distressing.”

Mendel turned to look at him, he’d been silent for a while, he knew. _Jason was always angry at him, angry at Trina, angry at the world, it seemed. Though especially Marvin, especially right now._

His therapist nods at him to continue. 

“He calls me ‘morbid and dissatisfied," he looked down at his brown leather shoes. “What should I do?”

Mendel says nothing, only looking at him as if encouraging him to continue. 

“He hates that I ‘love another'; hates that I left his mom. He claims he loves her more, he’s told me _so_ many times," Marvin’s voice sounds so drained, even to himself. He really was just at a loss as to what to do about his son. 

“We'll go to baseball games,” Marvin thought briefly at the handsome pitcher with _Davidson_ written across his back and the number seventeen underneath, who had caught his eye much more than their team’s complete failure to play baseball. “He’s on the little league team after all, tried to have father-son bond days I guess. We go to museums and yet, even standing next to each other we seem miles apart.” 

He looked again at his shoes, waiting, _needing_ Mendel to answer his questions, give him some advice, _anything_. But when he looked up, his therapist seemed just at a loss for words as he did, fidgeting with his pen. 

Marvin knew he didn't have kids himself, why would then Mendel know how to bond with them? But still, he was used to Mendel having some kind of advice, however bad it seemed. 

There was a beeping that Marvin had come to recognize as Mendel’s watch, and he looked relieved, looking back up at Marvin. 

“I’m sorry, Marvin, but I’ve got another client who will be here soon. Same time next week?”

He nodded, standing slowly, mind still consumed by what he could do about Jason. He stretched slightly, grabbing his jacket off where it was draped over his chair, and stalked out of the room, Mendel slowly trailing behind. 

~~~~~~~~~

Whizzer watched Marvin walk solemnly out of the now open door, carrying his disgusting jacket, expression quite different than it had an hour before when he had last seen him. 

“Well, come along, Marvin, you’ve kept me waiting long enough as it is,” he says, standing up and unceremoniously dropping the magazine back onto the table. 

Marvin gave him a look that told him he was too tired to argue today, and his eyes softened. _Oh._ Whizzer could be nice for once...

Marvin met him at the door, and Whizzer decided to reach out, looping his arm loosely around his shoulders and pulling him slightly closer as he attempted to open the door with his other hand.

He saw Marvin’s expression soften at the touch and almost smiled in spite of himself. He could feel Mendel’s eyes on the back of his head, though did his best to ignore it. 

_What is it that Marvin tells him about himself?_ He wondered to himself as he walked down the steps with his boyfriend. And Marvin, for once, letting him display some kind of affection in public even though the building was pretty much deserted anyway.

They got into the car, Marvin on the driver’s seat, and Whizzer reached out to grab his hand.

Marvin, though surprised as Whizzer had said it himself, _he doesn’t hold hands,_ squeezed his hand for a moment before letting go to put his hands on the wheel and pull out of the parking lot. But Whizzer could see the ghost of a smile on his boyfriend’s face, however much he tried to hide it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marvin and Whizzer and gay and oblivious, they're both dummies. I like writing little slightly cute moments between them, like Whizzer holding his hand. 
> 
> Also, I added the It's queer Mr. Marvin from the OBC because it is absolutely criminal that it wasn't in the revival.
> 
> I hope everyone is having a good week, and in case no one has told you this today/tonight/recently, you are loved and you are appreciated (and my cat who is sitting on my leg as I type this gives you is love as well). <3 : )


	6. My Father's a Homo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright Idk how good this is, but I promise I did try my best, writing as a ten year old from a..not ten year old: harder than it might seem, lmao. 
> 
> Will say, Whizzer's awkwardness will never not be the funniest and most relatable thing to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Jason's POV)
> 
> Some 'announcements' I guess: My friend who is normally kind enough to edit and beta read my chapters is currently swamped and as such none of the next probably 3-4 chapters are gonna be beta read or edited by someone besides myself so I'm sure there will be more typos and such. Once she's got the time to in late December, I will update each chapter, however, I hope that these next few chapters are still fairly okay. 
> 
> Alright, announcements over. I'm sure you can probably tell at this point but I love writing from Whizzer's POV. Also, assuming I can finish my editing for chapter 7, it will be posted by the end of the week.
> 
> Also, side note: This fic is growing so fast? It's only fifteen away from 400 as of when I'm typing this and that is absolutely baffling to me, thank you all so much for that, it absolutely makes the world for me. 
> 
> Also getting an email telling me someone commented or left a kudos genuinely will make my day, it's honestly such such such a nice thing to get, so thank you all for your kudos and comments. :)
> 
> If you feel my little fic here deserves a comment or kudos, they genuinely do mean the world to me.
> 
> Alright, enough of my ramblings, sorry for how long these chapter notes are, I'm pretty sure next to no one reads these anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> \- FangirlMess

1/25/79

Jason walked by the chair his father was sitting in, in the living room. 

“Homo,” he mumbled under his breath. 

His dad turned sharply. “What was that?”

“Homo,” he stated simply. 

His dad looked flabbergasted. 

“Excuse me?” he asked, a bit of anger building in his voice. 

Jason just kept walking. 

“Get back here!” Marvin demanded, though he didn’t move from his seat. 

“No.” he said calmly, ever indifferent to his father’s rising temper as he turned to face his dad from across the room. 

“Who’s to say it isn’t genetic _Dad_ ? What about chromosomes, does it carry? Will I be next, _Dad_?”

Marvin looked properly angry at this point, jaw clenching. Jason noticed, fanning the flames. 

“You always said I’d grow up to be _president._ ” he said, staring his father down. “But that seems crazy now, I mean, I don’t live the life of a normal kid, _Dad_.”

A vain in Marvin’s temple was pulsing, his face growing red. 

“I’m growing up with mom, who’s no wife, not anymore,” he paused and glanced behind him to see his mother rounding the corner. “And you, not a man at all.” he gestured vaguely at Marvin.

“You see here young man!” Jason’s dad rose from his seat as Trina, a lot of confusion on her face as tried to put together what had happened. 

“Marvin, let’s not yel-” his mother said rather loudly, before Marvin interrupted. 

“Our son _needs_ therapy!” he yelled. _Therapy?_ He thought. _Why the fuck would I need therapy?_

Marvin walked briskly from the room, temper having completely blown over, his mother turning right around to go back to the kitchen.

Once his father had left, he sat down at his chess board, playing himself, _again_. 

_He really didn’t mind, besides there was no one to play with: Whizzer had never learned how, his mom wasn’t any good, and his dad was a sore loser when he lost and a sore winner when he won. No, he’d rather just play himself._

He turned the board, starting for the other side. Suddenly he heard his mother's footsteps. She grabbed onto his shoulders loosely. 

“Sweetheart,” she began, and Jason ignored her. 

“I-I worry, dear.” he rolled his eyes at this, he was _fine_. She continued. “I worry a lot.”

He ignored her again. 

“Oh, I know! I could take you to the Jewish Center!” _Oh not that god awful place._

He stuck his finger in his mouth and mimed gagging. 

“Alright, fine, not the Jewish Center. But honey, playing chess alone, it-it’s not really...normal.”

He glanced up at her, looking entirely unconvinced, eyebrow raised. 

“What is _normal_ then?” he asked, and part of him was curious at what she’d say. 

His mom was silent for several moments before slowly admitting “I wouldn’t know.”

Jason triumphantly went back to his game. 

“Okay well,” Jason rolled his eyes as she started again. _Couldn’t she see he was busy?_

“Why don’t you ever talk to anyone on the phone, honey? Why don’t you get a friend, _someone_?” she asked, sounded slightly exasperated by his stubbornness.

“How about no?” he looked up at her briefly before returning to his game for the third time. 

She was silent for a good while. Then she kneeled down on the rug next to him. 

“Darling,” _oh no._ “Why don’t you see your father’s physiatrist? He’s quite a guy, I honestly admire him...Jason, I think it’d do you some good.” 

_Seriously? Again? Why would he need therapy? What good it had done his dad, anyway, after all these years._

She scooted behind him, messing with his hair.

“He could help, help you realize how confused you are. Your father means well, but well...look, it’s just you and me, okay?” she was almost begging at this point. “So, will you go?” 

Jason shrugged her off, standing up, “No.” he stated, annoyed. 

“Jason, please see a psychiatrist? He’s just my psychiatrist, he won’t bite. I’ll pay for it.” Marvin had re-entered the room, leaning against the frame, no doubt having overheard their conversation. 

“Honey please?” his mom started again. He backed up onto the sofa, crossing his arms across his arms. His parents walked over until they were both standing on either side of him. 

“No! Why do I need therapy anyway, huh? Cause I don’t have any friends?!” he exclaimed, nearly yelling at this point.

Trina looked taken aback. “No, it’s not that it’s just, Mendel, your father’s psychiatrist,” 

“Yeah mom, I’ve met him, remember?” Jason interrupted. 

“Oh yes. Well I think your father has chosen a good one-”

“No!” 

“He could help you figure out what’s bothering you, don’t you want that?” The begging tone diminishing into more of a strained, exhausted tone. She ran her hands through her hair, looking at Jason expectantly, her eyes looking tired. 

“Never!” he covered his ears with his hands as his father continued again. “And I’ll pay for it!”

“Never, never, never, never, never!” he shouted, pushing himself farther into the couch. 

“Jason-” his mom started again, in a quieter, more gentle tone, though her exhaustion showed through in her voice. 

“No! Forget it!” he got off the couch, sitting on the other sofa in the room, away from his parents. 

Trina mumbled, “God this family is tragic,” under her breath, one hand dragging down her tired face. 

“Please Jason,” they both began again, walking towards him again. He backed himself further into his seat. “He’s smart, he can _help_ you.”

“If intelligence were the only criteria, then wouldn’t really need a psychiatrist, would I?” he asked, eyebrows raised, glanced challengingly between both of his parents. 

“No,” his mother said softly, before his father begrudgingly admitted, “No.”

Jason unceremoniously got out of his chair, his point made, marching from the room, and his parents trailed along slowly until he reached the stairs and began to climb them, heading for his room. 

Before he turned to walk to his room, he said loudly enough that his parents would hear him from the bottom of the stairs, “Just because you’ve failed as parents doesn’t mean I need to pay for it!” before booking it to her room. 

He heard his mother gasp and then both of them were walking quickly up the stairs. 

He’d really pushed them this time. He sat down on his bed, waiting for them. 

They opened his door, both looking livid. 

“Hey kid listen-” Marvin started, his face now starkly red. Jason interrupted. 

“I don’t need one-”

“Now you’re _definitely_ going to see a therapist.” his mom stated sharply, clearly fed up. 

‘I want-” he started saying, before they both interrupted him. 

“A psychiatrist?” 

“No! For the last time!” he was silent for a second, thinking what he did want. _And_ what would annoy both of them. “He looked up at both his parents. “I wanna speak with Whizzer!” 

His dad went very pale as it would seem anytime Whizzer got brought up in this house, a stark contrast between his face only a moment or so before. 

“With whom?” Marvin asked, his voice very quiet and calm, sounding like he’d thought he’d misheard him. 

“With Whizzer!” he said again. 

He glanced at his mom who was looking at his dad, her eyes wide, shaking her head slightly. 

“With Whizzer?” her voice quiet and bordering on slightly hysterical. 

Jason nodded to their dismay. 

“Oh my god,” Marvin muttered under his breath, putting his head in his hands before turning and leaving the room. 

“Well, I better call him then,” he said, sounding stricken and Trina beckoned for Jason to follow her downstairs, and he begrudgingly agreed so that he could go back to his chess game as his parents were now distracted. 

~~~~~~~~~

Whizzer didn’t know what he was doing, driving his light teal old ass car to his lover’s ex-wife’s home to talk to _their_ son. 

Nonetheless, apparently the kid had asked for him specifically and he couldn’t say no to Jason. 

He pulled into the driveway of the now very familiar blue suburban home. He dragged his feet, not wanting to be forced enter yet another awkward situation with his boyfriend and Trina, looked in the pocket mirror he kept in his car and fixed his hair, before finally opening the door and stepping out of his car, having run out of ways to drag out the inevitable. 

Whizzer braced against the bitter January winds as they smacked him in the face. _He hated New York winters._

He pulled the long brown coat snugger around himself, thankful he only had to walk up the driveway he’d already begun trekking up before he’d be at least warm again. 

Making it to the door, he knocked, and a commotion ensued inside, before a frazzled looking Trina opened the door. 

“Whizzer!” she exclaimed tiredly. He waved an awkward hello before being beckoned into the, at this point, rather familiar, living room. 

Marvin rushed over from where he had been sat, he too looked as frazzled as Trina, grabbing Whizzer’s shoulders, an action that he huffed at, Marvin rolling his eyes, but allowed himself to be moved to where Jason was sat, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows furrowed. 

He kneeled in front of Jason who was very clearly rather upset. 

Instinctively he held his arms out slightly and Jason hugged him, Whizzer rubbing his back. He heard Marvin and Trina’s footsteps approach, her moving to stand behind Jason, and Marvin to stand behind him. He glanced over at both of them as Jason let go, stealing himself, and their expressions both gave nothing away. _What were they doing?_ He thought, confused. 

Before he could ask what was wrong, Jason began speaking, slowly deliberately. 

“Whizzer do you think I should see a psychiatrist?” he was startled by the question. _This was what he had to drive all the way over here to discuss?_ Part of him was flattered though, Jason wanted his opinion above anyone else. 

He let out an awkward laugh. _How should he know, Jason seemed alright most of the time, why exactly did he need one?_

He looked up at Jason briefly, and his gaze held only genuine curiosity. 

“Umm…I’m not sure, Jason, buddy.” he said, feeling put on the spot. 

He felt Marvin flick his head. 

He turns sharply, glaring daggers at his boyfriend. He got the hint though. He wasn’t here to answer Jason honestly, he was here to do Marvin’s bidding. _Oh joy._

He coughed slightly, trying to buy himself a second more time, before turning back to Jason, trying to instill his normal confident tone. 

“Jason, maybe so-” he started before hearing someone quite obviously clearing their throat and looked up at Trina who was nodding vigorously. _Oh, and Trina’s bidding. Lovely._ He looked back into Jason’s innocent eyes, and, feeling like actual shit, nodded his head at Jason, trying to seem more convincing, “D-absolutely Jason.” 

Jason glanced unbelievingly at both of his parents who both looked the picture of innocence smiling over at him, then back at Whizzer before slowly nodding. 

“Okay, I’ll go-” 

“He’ll go,” he said, standing up and glancing at Marvin with a look of contempt that said ‘are you happy now?’ _He didn’t like feeling like a pawn in Marvin’s game of chess._

“I’ll go,” Jason repeats, looking expectantly at his parents, probably hoping this would be the end of it and he can go back to- probably chess, knowing Jason. 

Trina eagerly echos him, sounding immensely relieved. 

“If he comes here.” Jason finishes belatedly, crossing his arms in an act of finality. 

Whizzer thinks he hears Trina mumble “fuck” under her breath, before she glances at Marvin. 

“He could come here-” she says, sounding vaguely hopeful. 

Marvin just shakes his head at her saying hotly, “He doesn’t make house-calls.” emphasizing this with over-exaggerated hand gestures. 

Just then Whizzer’s wrist watch went off, beeping obnoxiously. He glanced at it confused as to why it was going off before he remembered. 

“Oh!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The glare Andrew pulls in this scene forever gives me life it is SCATHING.
> 
> Is anyone planning on watching The Prom on Netflix? I am and boy am I excited, it looks so cool, and Andy Randy's in it so I'm sure it'll be great. 
> 
> For anyone in the US, I hope your Thanksgiving is..good I guess? (Thanksgiving baffles me, why does it exist for one, but also do you wish people a 'Happy Thanksgiving'?) Happy Thanksgiving in advance!


	7. This Had Better Come to a Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was genuinely quite hard to plan out for me so I'm sorry if it came out weird. 
> 
> I took out the couple lines where Marvin's at therapy cause I just could not figure out where to put it. 
> 
> Nevertheless, I hope this chapter suits the song it's meant for and you enjoy it!
> 
> Also Trina and Whizzer TALK, and boy was I excited to write that. We were ROBBED of a friendship between them and that's some bs right there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Whizzer and Trina's POV)
> 
> Cause try as I might, I could not figure out wtf was going through Marvin's mind in this scene.
> 
> Again, this chapter has only been edited by me, as my friend who normally edits has been too busy and will be till mid December so please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes you see in this. 
> 
> Something I only just noticed while rewatching the scene to write this: Whizzer cracks his knuckles anxiously while Marvin's berating him. I'd genuinely only just noticed that. Anyway, poor Whizzer in that scene, he did not deserve any of Marvin's berating, he didn't do anything wrong. 
> 
> One other thing. I genuinely will not have the time to post chapter 8 for a couple weeks (even though I'm incredibly excited to write the chapter for I'm Breaking Down), because I'm participating in 12 Days of Book of Mormon from tumblr, which requires a lot of writing. I will be posting that, but there just is not enough time in the day to do this and that, alongside school and homework and, somewhere in there sleeping and eating. Know your workload kids, because I overestimated how much I could stand in a pandemic and now my grades are slipping and I'm falling into a mountain of homework. Anywayyy, enough about me and my dying social life and dead mental health.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter and that it lived up to your standards, I'm honestly too tired to judge it, and remember, comments and kudos are super appreciated, they always put a huge smile on my face! :)  
> \- FangirlMess

1/25/79

  
"Shit, we’re late for dinner!” he exclaimed. Marvin grabbed his hand, steering him towards the door. “Sorry, we’ve gotta go!” he yelled as they booked it out the door. 

As they were leaving, he heard Trina’s watch go off too, and heard her exclaim, “Shit, I’m late for my appointment!” following them to the door. 

“I’ll be back in about an hour, Jason!” she called, followed by the thudding of feet across wood flooring and then the sound of someone running up the stairs. _Jason was probably going to his room. He didn’t blame the kid, especially with the shit his parents had pulled._

* * *

Whizzer hung his coat up and locked the door, before turning to Marvin to ask him why he’d been so quiet in the car ride home. Instead he felt Marvin’s grip on his arm, steering him towards the den. 

_“What,_ Marvin?” he whined at his boyfriend before snatching his wrist from his grasp, and sitting down on the couch with a sigh. Marvin stood nearly in front of him, arms crossed. 

_Clearly Marvin was irritated about something, but what?_

“You know,” Marvin began, and Whizzer knew what he was in for: a talking down to. Even though he was taller than Marvin, he made up for it with his down talking. 

He looked down at the rug on the floor, not giving Marvin that satisfaction of seeing his face, eyes following the intricate patterns on the rug he distinctly remembered picking out for this room. 

“You’re always supposed to be here making dinner. Making dinner and waiting here, always ready for a quick fuck, isn’t that right, _Whizzer_?” Marvin’s tone dripped with venom as he said it, and Whizzer flinched. 

Whizzer looked up, opening his mouth to object but Marvin started again, leaning down and putting his hands on his thighs to put his face closer to Whizzer. 

“That’s what _pretty boys_ like you are supposed to do.” he said in that same condescending tone. Whizzer scoffed at that. _I’m not just some pretty face you know?_ He wanted to say, but he kept it to himself, he wasn’t particularly in the mood to argue with Marvin right now. Besides, he knew he’d lose the argument anyway, and he just wanted to get back to his studio to develop his latest pictures. 

He turned away from Marvin as he rounded the back of the couch, coming to a stop on the other side of him. He cracked his knuckles, fidgeting with his fingers nervously, a habit he’d had since he could remember.

Marvin continued on his tirade. 

“ _Pretty boys_ are supposed to make dinner, check their hairlines,” at this Whizzer subconsciously ran his hand through his hair, “and loving _me_ !” Marvin spat, and Whizzer rolled his eyes. _This again_. 

Marvin began pacing in front of him. 

“You know, I don’t think this is gonna last. Don’t feel responsible though, it’ll be over soon anyway.” Marvin always was one for the melodramatics. He seemed to threaten a breakup every other time they argued at this point. _Him being responsible though? What kind of shit is that._

He shot up, now looking down at Marvin. “Oh, _I’m_ not responsible-” he said, much more softly than Marvin had been, but tone sharp nonetheless. 

Marvin grabbed at his sweater, pulling him closer. “Oh but life can be wonderful can’t it, Whizzer?” he stepped back slightly, letting him go. “Isn’t _this_ wonderful?”

“Of course it is-” Whizzer said quietly but, Marvin talked over him yet again. It seemed like sometimes Marvin just talked to hear his own voice. 

“But it’s gotta come to an end,” he said, leaning up towards Whizzer’s lips, the action contradicting his words, and confirming Whizzer’s suspicion that he was just trying to rile him up so they’d have sex. 

For a second, Whizzer wanted to, and leaned down before starkly turning his head up. 

“No, _nope_ ,” he put his hand on Marvin’s chest and shoved him away. 

“Not this time. You don’t just get to degrade me even after I did exactly what you wanted from me, and _then_ expect sex.” he said, voice rising as anger flooded him that probably should have been there before, if he hadn’t decided to just silently take Marvin’s berading. He walked quickly towards the front door. 

“Wait, Whizzer, come back!” he heard Marvin say from behind him, nearly sprinting to keep up with his quick strides. He whirled around. 

“Go fuck yourself, Marvin!” he thought for a second. “Actually, yeah, go fucking do that, cause I sure as hell won’t!” He turned around and stormed over to the coat rack, ripping his jacket off the hook, Marvin having fallen behind at his explosion. 

Whizzer stormed out of the apartment, slammed open the door to the stairwell, thudding down the stairs, flipping Marvin off all the way to the bottom. 

Reaching the door, he threw it open, making straight for his car before sinking into the driver’s seat and sighing loudly, resting his head on the wheel. 

He didn’t know where he was going to go per se, but he’d made a big scene to leave, he couldn’t just come back yet, nor did he particularly wanna spend anymore time with Marvin while he was being like this. 

Picking his head up slowly from the wheel, and feeling his anger rapidly cooling, he put his key in the ignition, turning the volume on the somehow not broken stereo in his car way up, and pulled out of the parking lot, still however, rather pissed off.

~~~~~~~~~

Trina was sat in Mendel’s office, fidgeting with her hands. 

Finally she spoke again and she saw him look up. 

“You know, I was supposed to make the dinner, make it pretty for him.” She smiled slightly at this. Mendel didn’t ask who _him_ was, they both knew. “Every wife should pull her weight, you know?” she looked into his eyes, fidgeting only increasing, _needing_ confirmation. 

Mendel only nodded though, so she carried on. “It was always supposed to be on the table, on time. I was supposed to make dinner, take care of Jason, love him.” she said, her voice sounding increasingly frazzled as she went on.

Mendel bent to write something down. 

“But, he’s _replaced_ me.” her voice cracked at this. She’d never dared breathe it aloud, but that was undeniably how it felt. And she _wanted_ to hate him for it, she really did but she just...couldn’t. Seeing Whizzer obsessing over being late for dinner was like Deja vu as well, she too had done it so many times in the past. 

“I don’t even make his dinner anymore, _he_ does, I _don’t_ love him anymore, and Jason _hates_ me. I can’t do _anything_ right anymore.” 

Mendel looked at her sympathetically as she rambled on. 

“Well clearly you two aren’t so different, then?” he said softly, contrasting her brash tone. 

_Huh_. She hadn’t really thought of that. “I always just sort of saw him as...not the enemy, but I don’t know...competition? My replacement?” That was still sort of how she felt, in all honesty. Though, she had begun to see him as not all bad.

“My life has become such a terrible, horrible flop!” she exclaimed, wanting to move back to that topic instead of her ex’s lover, a topic she was still very much mulling over, especially after him coming at their request to talk with Jason. 

“It’s got to come to a stop, I can’t take it anymore!” her voice raised an octave, and Mendel looked slightly concerned for a microsecond before masking it, and running his hand up and down his thigh. 

“My dear, it’s not your responsibility anymore, that part of your life is through.” She thinks those words are meant to comfort her, but they do the opposite, and her mind races. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she said softly. Someone had finally laid it on her, she really _had_ to start moving on with her life. 

“Well _who_ is responsible then?” she inquires, looking over at Mendel. 

He suddenly throws his hands up in surrender. “Don’t ask me questions. I’m uh, frightened of questions.” She looked at him, baffled. 

He did his best to recover, starting again. 

“ _I’m_ grateful this has come to a stop, that your life is moving on. Try, and smile, Trina, I’m here and I can help you move on.” Trina nodded, trying her best to take the advice to heart. 

~~~~~~~~~

Whizzer’s not sure how he ended up in the driveway of his boyfriend’s ex-wife, especially considering he’d been in this exact spot only about an hour ago.

He’d been driving aimlessly, not paying much attention to where he was going. And yet, his subconscious had picked _here_. 

He had been sat in the driveway, staring into space for a good twenty minutes, debating whether or not to go in when he heard someone knock on his window. 

He looked up, startled, to see Trina looking at him through the glass, incredibly confused, the keys to her own car hanging loosely from her hand. 

He rolled down his window, feeling sheepish. 

She didn’t look angry, just confused, and he didn’t blame her. 

“Um, hey Trina.” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. “Could I uh, come in?” 

She looked taken aback, but recovered quickly. 

“Um, sure?” she answered, though it sounded more like a question. 

“Sorry,” he said, feeling like a complete jerk, and reached for the handle so he could get out. Trina moved to the side so he could open the door. 

They were both silent as they walked up the driveway, through the front door, and through the house, before reaching the, Whizzer would readily admit, beautifully decorated living room, that he was sure Trina put hours of time into. 

Trina sat down on one couch, gesturing for him to sit on the other one. He sat down, pulling at his jacket sleeve. 

She looked at him expectantly. 

“ _Well_ , Marvin was just _berating_ me about how I was supposed to be at home, making dinner, _loving_ him.” he said, counting it out on his fingers, repeating Marvin's words back. “He just- he’s such a fucking hypocrite, wants me here with Jason, but no, home making dinner, being his house wife...I can’t be two places at once. So I uh- I stormed out. Left. Drove around. Somehow I ended up driving over here.”

She nodded slowly. “He is such a hypocrite, isn’t he?” she asked, laughing slightly. 

“He wants _it all_.” he said, smiling as he looked up to meet her eyes. He hadn’t expected her to so readily take him up on the conversation, but it was nice, he thought. 

She rolled her eyes at that. “Oh yeah, _it all_.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. Whizzer realized in that moment that he rather liked Trina. She was nice, putting up with all the people in her life’s bullshit. _Even his own._

“I bet you hurt his pride.” Trina said quietly. He looked up, smirking. 

“Oh I bet.” he quipped, and chuckled.

“All I heard was ‘Late for dinner, late for dinner.’ Why do _I_ have to make dinner? If he wants dinner so badly, he could make himself, you know?” 

“He’s like...a baby. Deny him anything, he throws a fit. I mean, not even like something Jason would do.” she gestured above their heads, where Jason’s bedroom was. 

Whizzer laughed at that, and Trina joined in quickly.

“It’s ridiculous, isn't it?” he asked. 

“What?“

“He pulls this shit, yet I always come back.”

Trina only nodded, looking lost in thought. 

“Yeah…”

At that moment, it felt like something passed between them. Empathy. Understanding. 

Just then, there was a knock at the door. They both looked towards the door, and Trina instinctively stood to answer it. 

Whizzer held his hand out, signaling that he’d get it and she sat back down. He had a suspicion he knew who it was anyway.

He walked down the hallway, and opened the door, seeing his boyfriend on the front step. He crossed his arms. 

“What do you want, Marvin?” he leaned against the door frame, staring at him. 

“Why are you here?” He asked, sounding mildly baffled.

He decided to answer with a question. “How did you find me?”

Marvin shrugged. “Lucky guess?” 

Whizzer rolled his eyes. “By all means then, _come in_ Marvin.” sarcasm oozing from his voice, even as he opened the door wider so he could, not at all pleased to see his boyfriend. 

~~~~~~~~~

As Marvin came into view, Trina just sighed. _Of course._

“Back so soon, Marvin?” she asked his approaching form, clearly annoyed. 

“I actually-, I have a question, Marvin.” she declared, before he could even answer, switching the dynamic that usually functioned between both her and Marvin, and Whizzer and Marvin. 

“What do you _want_ with me? With us?” She gestured to Whizzer at us. 

Whizzer in turn put his hand on his hips, and too turned to look at Marvin too, expectant.

Marvin opened his mouth, for _once_ at a loss for words. 

“You know, I met this man the other day, wasn’t very smart but he was rich.” Marvin gapped slightly at her. 

“So did I.” she heard Whizzer agree. She glanced at him for a second, before glancing back at Marvin, whose eyes were flitting back and forth between his ex-wife and current partner, slightly shocked that they were ganging up on him, much less interacting at all, as their interactions in the past were...stale.

She knew Whizzer wasn’t always faithful to Marvin, and part of her relished in that fact. She’d heard their arguments about it before, even if they didn’t realize how loud they were being. He got to feel what she’d felt. She didn’t endorse cheating, but boy did it feel _good_.

“Which is it, _Marvin_ ? Would you prefer we lust for brains or money? What do you _want_ from us _Marvin_?”

Marvin backed up slightly and they both stepped forward. 

“All I ever hear is ‘late for dinner, late for dinner.’ Why is it always ourselves who have to change, huh?” Whizzer said hotly. They both stepped forward. 

“This is incredibly boring!” Marvin sneered, though he’d backed up again, this time farther. 

“Oh and your _temper_ ,” Trina started jabbing her finger into his chest. 

Marvin turned away from her, to face Whizzer who in turn jabbed his finger into his chest too. 

“A temper that _redefines_ temper!” he said heatedly. Trina nodded slightly at his jab. 

Marvin stepped back again, looking more like a cornered animal than his usual self. 

“This,” Trina gestured at them all, “This had better come to a stop. _This_ had better come to end.”

“Try Marvin, bend a little, huh? For once?” he said, the bitterness in his voice was evident. 

They'd gotten to the end of the hallway. Whizzer reached over and opened the door, Marvin stumbling back onto the front porch, before turning around, and walking away, looking defeated, an animal who’d lost a fight they thought they’d win. 

Trina glanced at Whizzer, triumphant. He smiled at her, waiting for Marvin to drive off, eyes following him, before heading to his own car, and waving to her, off to go who knows where. She wondered when she’d next see him. She was pretty sure that him and Marvin were still together, but with how volatile their relationship was, she honestly couldn’t be sure. She waved back absently. _Maybe she had been judging him a bit too harshly. And maybe those awful dinners would be a little more tolerable._

She turned and went back inside, as Whizzer’s familiar teal car drove off, making her way to the kitchen to start her and Jason’s own dinner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watched Boys in the Band (again) with my mother and it is still, FANTASTIC. 
> 
> If you guys haven't seen it, would highly, highly, highly, recommend!
> 
> I hope you guys have a wonderful week and remember, you are loved. <3


	8. I'm Breaking Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter doesn't include a lot of the actual lines from the song because including a lot of them makes Trina seem like she actually belongs in that padded room. It's also pretty much all internal monologuing.
> 
> I feel like this doesn't have the exact vibe as the song itself, but I did try my best, and I didn't have the music to work with. 
> 
> Also, this song is one of my favorites like, period. Writing this chapter meant I had an excuse to listen to/watch this several times and I am NOT complaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Trina's POV)
> 
> Oh the irony of my life. I wrote this chapter in-between mental breakdowns. Yes that's plural, I really had a bad week.  
> TW/
> 
> Two of my friends tried to overdose this week. 
> 
> If anyone is curious about my mental wellbeing, I will...be okay eventually. I tend not to share much of my personal life on here but you know, eh, why not at this point. 
> 
> Alright enough about my depressing life, this chapter was *fun* to write. She keeps drinking in this chapter, and that was based on a video I saw where (one of my friends told me it's a Mean Girls musical actress) and she was singing I'm Breaking Down while taking swigs straight from a bottle of wine in between verses. 
> 
> Trina is really just, not having a good time in this chapter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! I know I said I wasn't gonna post for a bit because of 12 Days of BoM but my motivation died for that so back to this! 
> 
> *Important Announcement for the Fic*: I know I said my motivation died, but I decided to participate some for 12 Days of BoM, so I won't have time to post chapters until after Christmas, so this is going on temporary hiatus until then, though no worries, I'll have a lot more time to write around Christmas so I'll probably have time to get ahead on posts. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are majorly appreciated, they always absolutely make my day! :) 
> 
> \- FangirlMess

1/25/79

Trina walked into the kitchen, rubbing at her temples. 

_ What a day.  _

“Dinner, dinner, dinner,” she mumbled as she walked haphazardly around the kitchen, finally throwing the doors of the fridge open, and looking at the near-barren, white shelves. 

She hadn’t gone grocery shopping in far too long, they really didn’t have anything in the kitchen at this point, especially with Jason’s near-constant raiding of the kitchen for snacks. 

Trina had finally scrounged up enough to make some kind of... _ surprise _ . It was a tip she’d learned from her mother: when you’re out of almost everything, find every scrap of food you’ve got left, and combine it all. 

Glancing in the fridge one last time she found a half-empty bag of carrots hidden at the bottom of the vegetable drawer. 

“Perfect!” she exclaimed quietly to herself, pulling them out, and setting them onto the counter with the rest of it. 

Her eyes landed on one other thing she’d missed: two somewhat over-ripe bananas at the very bottom of the fruit bowl. 

_ This should work alright. She really did need to get groceries first thing tomorrow, though, there was truly nothing left in the kitchen, except the condiments in the fridge.  _

Pulling out two of her mixing bowls and the cutting board, she set them both on the counter. 

“God, what a day,” she mumbled, running a hand through her hair, as she walked over to the cabinet in search of her mom’s cookbook. 

She hugged it to her chest as she walked with it back to the island to start. 

The ‘recipe’ of sorts she was following was bookmarked for days just like that, and Trina found the page immediately, it covered in little stains from use over the years. 

“Okay, 375!” she exclaimed yet again, turning around to preheat the oven. 

Glancing up again at her book, suddenly she was struck with when exactly she’d followed the recipe last. She grimaced at the memory, before her eye caught the barely opened bottle of wine on the counter, and she looked at it longingly, before shrugging to herself and grabbing it, and taking a long sip straight from the bottle.

Coming home after the lunch she’d been invited to had been unexpectedly canceled, groceries still in hand, she’d walked into the den. The sight that greeted her still haunted her to this day. It was right then that she knew her marriage was over, and that her husband was a dirty cheater who didn’t love her. Greeting her were two men she knew so well: her husband, and his ‘friend from work,’ who were both in various stages of being undressed. They were kissing madly on  _ her _ sofa, her  _ husband’s _ hands grabbing Whizzer’s ass. 

Now, she realized, it was only a matter of time. Her husband was so cocky he’d never get caught, that he could live that double life forever, but he would have slipped up eventually. 

As she measured out the ingredients, putting the liquids one by one into the bigger of the two bowls, she thought to herself. There had been a lot more time for thinking since Marvin had moved out of their formerly shared home. 

_ Really, what did she think was gonna happen? Even if she hadn’t caught them, they weren’t happy, not at all, though she hadn’t quite understood what was going so wrong. In a terrible moment of clarity finding them like that, it had suddenly all made sense. The sneaking in, the passing out, after all the late days at the office, the new cologne smell on him.  _

She had just brushed it off though, all the red flags, determined to keep their happy family together, even if no one was happy, and Jason had begun to notice. 

Loud footsteps stomping around upstairs snapped her out of her train of thought.  _ Oh, it must be Jason.  _

_ Jason. Her son. So smart, and yet sometimes, he seemed like such an idiot.  _

She clasped a hand over her mouth for even thinking that thought. 

_ What kind of mother am I that thinks of my child like that? _

Putting her elbows onto the counter, she put her head in her hands. 

“I swear, I’m breaking down,  _ I’m breaking down _ , I can’t-” she muttered into her palms, somewhat aware that she sounded a little up the wall. 

_ I swear, I’m gonna lose my brain,  _ she thought, before dragging her hands down her face exhaustedly, and standing up straight again. Afterall, dinner won’t make itself. 

She doesn’t have time for a breakdown now though, she had to get back to her banana carrot surprise. She grabbed the bottle again, taking a swig of it. 

Glancing down into her bowl, Trina pulled out one of the bananas, peeling it, before setting it down. 

All the emotions she felt seeing the two men like that in her home suddenly came surging out of her, and she picked up her knife, furiously stabbing the piece of fruit into chunks, not even concerned that they were not very uniform sizes at all. 

She thought back to their marriage again. How she’d cried, and shook, and yelled, and yet was always the guilty party, according to Marvin. She felt like she’d been going crazy until she figured out that fateful day that she was being deceived. 

Trina guessed she was supposed to hate Whizzer, see him as the enemy, but he really wasn’t so bad.

Maybe at first, she had sort of hated him, especially the fact that he had met her, and still decided to continue on with Marvin. But she’d gotten over it, mostly, afterall it had been over half a year. She had also learned a bit about him over that time, and they shared moments of general understanding of one another. Especially the one they’d just had, coupled with what Mendel had said today. She’d seen a different side of him, one she’d never seen before. They weren’t so different, she saw that rather clearly now. Maybe if they’d met under circumstances, they could even have struck up a friendship. 

The past six months or so of her life felt like a nightmare how it had all played out, but she was starting to get used to their outcome. 

Finally moving onto the last of the ingredients, the carrots, she opened the bag, only to realize that they must have slightly frozen and thawed while in the freezer, because they were limp. 

It didn’t really matter for the recipe she was making though, and so after that second-long setback she started the task of peeling them and cutting them. Before though, she grabbed the slowly draining bottle of wine, and took another swig of it, aware slightly in the back of her mind that cooking while intoxicated was probably a bad idea. 

Glancing down at her cutting board she noticed something. She waved around the limp carrot and laughed out loud, a sound that even to her, sounded rather crazed.

Probably the wine, she reasoned, but she somehow doubted that that was the only reason. 

The carrot hanging like that reminded her, rather crudely, of her ex-husband’s dick. 

Marvin had never really wanted to have sex, it was a miracle they concieved Jason in all honesty. She couldn’t help but hope Whizzer wasn’t ‘fulfilling his needs’ as she had clearly been unable to do for the duration of their relationship. 

She peeled and cut the carrots in mostly silence, save for the occasional self deprecating laugh at where her mind had gone. 

She felt a bit like she was going crazy. Glancing around the walls of her kitchen she imagined padding instead of the tile she’d painstakingly picked out. 

_ God, that sounded better than her current situation _ . She was just so  _ tired _ .

At least if she was in the padded room she felt she belonged in she could  _ sleep.  _ She wanted the pills that would let her sleep, desperately. 

She began to combine both sets of ingredients mindlessly, before searching for a pan. 

Her mind then drifted to Doctor Weisenbachfeld,  _ Mendel _ . A flush instantly creeped up her neck, to her cheeks at the mere thought of him. 

She was starting to fancy her ex-husband’s psychiatrist. The thought sunk in, and suddenly she wanted to bang her head onto the counter in front of her.  _ Why was she like this? _

_ Well he was kind, and he listened, and he tried his best to help with Jason and...No! Stop! Stop thinking about it.  _

Denial is one hell of a drug. 

“Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath, grabbing the bottle off the counter yet again, and taking a long sip from it, trying to drown her thoughts in alcohol. 

She really didn’t have many standards for men. She just wanted someone who loved her, liked her even. Someone who would  _ help her. _

She had long-since realized that the man she thought loved her didn’t. She always thinks she knew, in the back of her mind. He’d have his meetings in the boy’s latrine and she wouldn’t bat an eyelash, looking away from what was happening. Sometimes she would cry, get upset, but he’d always make a scene, make her out to be crazy and the monster. It had really messed with her head. 

Rashly, she decided to pick up the dish towel next to the sink, and wrap it around her head, the alcohol she’d been ingesting really was getting to her. 

She caught her reflection in the window above the sink, and laughed that strangled, manic cackle from before. 

_ She looked ridiculous.  _ Though, she was also starkly reminded of her veil on her own wedding. Her long white dress had been tailored specifically to hide her baby bump. She still remembered the day like it was yesterday. 

Suddenly, the mental image of Marvin in her gown appeared in her head, and she snorted at the thought. She decided she’d  _ die  _ before dry-cleaning his wedding gown. 

Somehow the fact that she’d been married to Marvin, who was queer, and not known for ten years still baffled her. The signs we’re really all there. Hindsight really is 20/20. 

Removing the towel from her head, it accidentally rubbed against her breast and her neck and cheeks immediately heated up again. 

She leaned back against the counter and tentatively touched her breast again. She marveled at how  _ good  _ it felt. 

The last time she had had sex was so long ago she couldn’t even remember anymore. She felt like such a  _ freak _ . She had in her marriage as well, how she realized she craved physical intimacy, and felt so ashamed that she, the wife, had such a strong need, while her husband was barely ever up for it. She really just needed it maybe every other week, but even that was something Marvin had never really met. She’d heard ‘I’m too tired tonight, darling, maybe tomorrow’ so many times over their ten years together. 

Really, if she looked back at her relationship, she realized she had played the clown. The near virgin that she was had been played so well by Marvin, he ought to run a circus. 

Suddenly the oven went off, signaling that it was preheated, and she grabbed the oven mits, setting them down next to the glass pan. 

Really, while she was having a breakdown over her banana-carrot surprise in her kitchen, alone, her family was breaking up, one piece at a time. 

She dragged a tired hand down her face, sighing loudly at her circumstances, and put her oven mitts on, putting her frankenstein of a dinner into the oven. 

This day had felt like forever and she still hadn’t called Mendel to ask about him coming over to see Jason. Dejectedly, she grabbed the open bottle and slid down the counter until she was sitting on the floor. She took a long, slow sip from it. 

_ This had been such a long day.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if anyone noticed it, but I made an In Trousers reference in this and I am far too proud of that. It's really obscure but it'd definitely be cool if someone caught it, lmao.


	9. Please Come to Our House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is most definitely, by far, the longest one I've ever written. Just- dear god. 
> 
> It was a bit of a mess, heck, it's probably still a bit of a mess, but you know, I feel like that kinda vibes with the song so I think that's alright. 
> 
> Also, since this chapter is so long, I probably missed more grammar issues and such than usual, so sorry 'bout that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Trina's, Mendel's, and Marvin's POV)
> 
> So sorry I disappeared for a month, but I'm in fact alive and back now and will (hopefully) be back to a fairly normal posting schedule. I do have a stressful week coming up at the end of the month though, so I may miss one update in the next 2 weeks. 
> 
> I hope everyone had an absolutely wonderful Christmas (if you celebrate) and New Year even if this year's already a shit show. (America are we okay? The answer is no)
> 
> Over break, I finally got around to watching the OBC Falsettos show, and A New Brain, so whoever recommended it on chapter one, it was great, thanks for the recommendation. 
> 
> Just gonna say this now. No one is allowed to say Whizzer nearly passing out is inaccurate. I have nearly passed out several times, including, Sunday, fight me. This has literally no application until, *checks notes* chapter 25, but just- I was also in the ER as of recently so Whizzer first getting to the hospital is directly based on my experience in that shit hole. 
> 
> Whoops that came out rather aggressive, I'm just passionate, whoops. If anyone's wondering, no, the ER is not fun to be in during a pandemic with a dead phone in the dead of night. 
> 
> Alright, last little bit of my ramblings. I commissioned art for two scenes in this fic, and so when they're finished, I'll put the first one in. (the second one is for a far later chapter) It was honestly the coolest thing to see something I imagined real. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always so very appreciated, they're always day makers for me!
> 
> \- FangirlMess

1/25/79, 1/26/79 - 5/26/79

Trina woke up, instantly greeted with a throbbing headache. 

“Ughhh,” she mumbled into her pillow, and memories of yesterday came into sudden, sharp, painful focus. 

Her and Whizzer’s talk, their joint effort to kick Marvin out of her house. And then…

Making dinner. Everytime she thought of something else shit about her life, she’d taken a sip out of the godforsaken bottle of wine. And now, every sip felt like a bullet to the brain as her head pounded. 

After making her weird ass, banana-carrot surprise, she’d tried her best to sober up, and brought a serving up to Jason, who was hibernating in his room, as he had been for hours. 

Rolling over onto her back in her large, nearly unoccupied bed, she rubbed at her temples, mentally trying to remember her to-do list for the day. 

_Make breakfast, buy groceries, call Mendel to ask (beg) him to talk to her son at their house._

Resolving to make breakfast, she pulled back the covers and sat up slowly, the movement only making her head pound more painfully. She pushed through though, she could get through today. 

* * *

Trina walked through the door, her darkest sunglasses pushed up her nose, and bags of much needed groceries loading up her and Jason’s arms, who sulked behind her. They put the bags on the island in the kitchen, and began to put away the mountain of groceries she had bought. 

As soon as mathematically fair, Jason fled from the kitchen, opting to go straight to the the living room. 

She heard him dial a number as she put away the fruit into the basket on the counter, and dimely thought about the fact that her ten-year-old could operate the telephone. Her son was really quite smart. It made her beam with pride. 

Then she heard who he had called. 

She heard only bits of Jason’s side of the discussion, but that was enough.

“Whizzer, are you _sure_ I need to see the psychiatrist?”

There was a long pause. 

“Yeah, that’s all I called about, just had to make sure, Da-I mean Whizzer.”

Trina gasped slightly, before covering her mouth. _Marvin’d throw an absolute fit if he had heard that._

More silence followed, before: “Okay, bye Whizzer!”

The call disconnected, and Trina realized that she could use the line now. 

Hands slightly shaking at the task at hand, she walked to the bulletin board in the kitchen, and pulled off the note that Marvin had pinned on it so long ago, the paper showing signs of aging, Marvin’s telltale messy scrawl telling the number for his psychiatrist’s office. 

She looked at it, eyes mentally tracing the numbers, allowing herself, just for a moment, to slip back to when he’d written that, about five years prior, when their marriage was, well, better. It hadn’t been perfect, it hadn’t ever been great, but Marvin had just started seeing a psychiatrist, getting diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and subsequent medication, they had Jason starting kindergarten, and life was _okay_. 

It was probably the best their marriage had ever been. Jason was excelling in school, book-smart just like his father, Marvin had his temper more under control, and they didn’t have a crying baby or crying toddler keeping them both at their wit’s end from lack of sleep. It was a time in her life where she’d thought the years beforehand had been just a snag, that it’d get better. 

_But that’s in the past._

She shook her head slightly, and walked briskly to the telephone, pulling it off the wall to type in the number. 

It rang twice, before she heard a voice answer, with a hello. 

She began to pace the kitchen, grateful for the extended cord on the phone as she did so. 

“Dr. Weisenbachfeld, please?”

“This is Doctor Weisenbachfeld, how can I help you?”

“Mendel- Marvin- he- well, he’s done something, or, it’s rather, I guess, what he hasn’t done,” she rambled, putting off explaining exactly _why_ she’d called. 

“Trina?” he sounded pleased to her voice, “How are you?” 

“Um, well, I’ve been better. I called because well, how do I say this…You have to exorcise the devil in Jason.”

Mendel made a confused noise in the back of his throat. 

She mentally and very nearly physically smacked her forehead. 

_Why. did. she. call. the psychiatrist. while. hung. over?_

Well, the only way to get through this conversation is just keep talking. 

“I- ignore that. Jason’s having a hard time adjusting to Marvin and I’s divorce, we thought it’d be best if maybe he talked to you?”

“Sure, of course, when would you like to book an appointment?”

“Would tomorrow work?”

“Of course, I’m free all afternoon.”

“Well, you see, this is why I called?” it came out more like a question. 

“Oh?” she heard him ask quietly. 

“Yes, please, could you come to our house for his session?” she asked, the desperation definitely leaking out in her tone. 

“I don’t normally, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

Trina smiled. 

“So, what would you like me to do with Jason?”

“Please come to our house, talk some with Jason because I think he really needs it, he’s definitely Marvin’s child, that much is becoming very clear. Sometimes he seems fine but, he’s wild, he is very much his father’s son.”

As she spoke, Mendel intermittently said polite _uh huhs_. 

She finished rambling, and Mendel said slowly, “So just come talk to him about his worries?”

Trina sighed with relief, letting out a grateful “Yes.”

What time? He asked, and Trina realized they hadn’t discussed it. 

“Would 1 o’clock work?” she asked timidly. 

“That’d work just swell! Okay- well, see you tomorrow at 1, Trina?” Mendel asked, sounding like he felt incredibly awkward. 

“Yes, yes, tomorrow. Well, goodbye Dr. Weisenbachfeld-”

“-Mendel-”

“-Mendel, see you tomorrow.”

There was a click as the call disconnected, and Trina ran a tired hand down her face, before putting the phone back on the wall and starting dinner. 

* * *

Trina rang her hands anxiously at the table as one pm loomed ever closer. She stared at the clock on the wall, watching the minute hand ticked closer and closer. 

She was interrupted when Jason walked into the kitchen, his hair still a curly mess. 

“Did you brush your hair yet?” She asked, rushing over to where he was standing and trying to neaten his hair up. 

“Yesss,” he whined, dodging her hands in favor of sitting on the counter. 

“What should I say to him anyway? Should I be mean?” he asked curiously, his feet swinging back and forth as he glanced over at her questioningly. 

‘What? No? Just be yourself!” she answered, her voice sounding just as anxious as she felt. 

“Be myself?” he asked, seeming to want a more in depth answer that Trina very much did not provide. 

“Yes Jason, don’t be disgusting, be yourself.” 

He scowled at this. 

She walked over to him, licking her thumb and trying to rub a bit of dirt on his face. 

He yowled and dodged again. She sighed in frustration and through her hands up in the air in defeat. 

“Fine! Walk around with dirt on your face!” she exclaimed exasperatedly, turning her back on him to get the vacuum out of the hall closet. She plugged it in the living room, frantically trying to clean the already spotless floors. She also, rather selfishly, used the loud sound of it to block out any further questions from Jason. She was really not in the right headspace to answer his questions. 

She checked her watch, realizing that it was 5 til’, and rushed over to the outlet, unplugging the vacuum, and hurriedly shoving it in the closet. 

As she walked back into the room, she passed the hallway mirror, and as she glanced into it, realized in horror that in her clean-crazed state of panic, she’d forgotten makeup. 

She rushed upstairs, taking them two at a time, nearly tripping on the last one in her low, red heels, and nearly ran to her vanity in her, formerly Marvin and her’s, bedroom. 

Trina pulled out a red lipstick conveniently matching her pants, tracing her lips with practiced ease, though her wrist shook slightly with nerves. 

She glanced around at the various products on her white corner vanity, deciding she’d only have time for concealer to hide her atrocious undereye bags. 

As soon as she’d finished, the doorbell rang, and her heart raced. 

She heard Jason call up the stairs, “I’ll get it, Mom!”, and his hurried footsteps on the wooden tiles. 

_“Shit_ ,” she mumbled, _that_ won’t go well. 

Turning back the way she came, she frantically made it down the hallway, and down the staircase, hearing the conversation by the door. 

“Hello Mister Doctor Sir, so good of you to come to our house for my unraveling.”

God. Jason. _Why?_

But then she heard Mendel chuckle and gently correct him, saying to call him Mendel, and she sighed slightly in relief, hovering uncertainly at the bottom of the stairs. 

Jason started speaking again. “Come in, let’s eat some food!”, his childish voice bouncing off the walls. 

Trina made her decision, frantically going into the kitchen to stand near the counter where her gourmet creation sat. 

~~~~~~~~~

Mendel wiped his slightly sweaty hands on his pants as he walked into the kitchen to see Trina standing there, looking beautiful. 

_No_ , he mentally scolded, absolutely not. 

He walked across the room, extending his hand towards her. 

She took it, shaking it firmly. 

And it was such a strong grip, and Trina’s hands were so soft, and she was holding his so tenderly. His heart thudded quickly in his chest. 

All too soon she’d let go and walked to the other end of the kitchen to put lunch on the table. 

_Oh what a lovely table._ He thought absently, _such a romantic table.._

 _No_ , he mentally chastised himself again. 

He looked up at her from across the table as they all sat down. Their eyes met, and hers were a warm brown, ones he could get lost in so easily. 

He smiled slightly, and she smiled back before Jason interrupted them with a not discrete cough. They both looked away, and Mendel served himself some of the stew Trina had made. It made her smile, though he wasn't sure why. 

They all ate silently for several moments before Mendel looked over at this new client: Jason. He was staring daggers into his food, fists clenched on the table. 

“Jason, right?” he asked him, and he looked up.

“Yes?” he answered. 

“You look, uh, pretty miserable, kid,”

Jason scowled again, turning back to looking down at his food, mumbling under his breath. 

“What was that, Jason?”

“I’m _uninspired_ ,” he mumbled a bit louder. 

Mendel snorted at that. This kid’s vocabulary was just as interesting as his parents had sometimes mentioned. 

“Ain't that the truth,” he said quietly, and Jason looked up again, smiling slightly, his hands unclenching a little bit. 

“Why do you say that, dear?” Trina asked, who before hadn’t been paying them both much attention. 

Jason just huffed. “I don’t know, I heard Whizzer say it.”

Trina, Mendel noted, said nothing but a small, _huh,_ before going back to picking at her food. 

The conversation dropped abruptly at this, and Mendel started fidgeting. He hated stilted conversations. 

He glanced around. It was starting to feel like the walls were closing in on him. 

“This room seems a bit uh, small.” he said unceremoniously, instantly regretting it because _that’s rude._

But Trina jumped on it, her eyes lighting up. 

“I agree. I always hated this room, and when Marvin and I went looking for houses, I didn’t want this house, but Marv was sold, and well, you know how Marvin is when he’s set on something.”

Mendel nodded, thinking back to all the rather frustrating early sessions he’d had with Marvin. 

He glanced up at the clock on the wall, suddenly realizing it’d been twenty minutes. 

He clasped his hands together. 

Right. I think it’s best we start now. Trina, thank you for lunch.” he said sweetly. 

She smiled before picking up the dishes, and stacked them in the sink. 

“I’ll hold the food then-”

“Uh, I don’t really- eat at times like this.” he interrupted awkwardly, and her face fell. 

Trying to push past it, he gestured for Jason to follow him into the living room. 

He sat down on the couch, patting the spot next to him for Jason to sit down. 

Jason begrudgingly sat down, huffing as he did. 

He was silent for a while, staring determinedly at his navy blue converse. 

Just as Mendel was about to introduce a talking point for them to start on, Jason began hurriedly. 

“Mr. Mendel- “

He looked over him, slightly startled.

“Mendel-”

“Fine, _Mendel._ I get apoplexy thinking of my father, I resemble him in far too many ways.” He gestured vaguely at himself as he said it. 

Mendel was genuinely taken aback by that. He had to think a good few seconds to even remember what _apoplexy_ meant. 

_Oh. Angry, very angry. He could work with that._

Marvin’s vocabulary really was much like that of his son, Jason was right, he really did resemble him in a _lot_ of ways. 

Mendel cocked his head to the side at him, and when he looked up at him, nodded, trying to get him to go on, this was definitely a start, at least he was opening up. 

“Well, his sad demeanor. The way he acts, the way he talks to _everyone_ . The _swine.”_

Mendel did his best to hide the snicker he let out. 

Jason starred at the blue patterned rug, and Mendel looked too. 

Finally, he looked up, and Mendel looked up too. 

“His room is cleaner than mine...at least,” he bit his lip, thinking. 

He went silent for a few moments. 

“Is it fatal?”

“Is what?” he asked, confused. 

“We’re so similar,” he made a face, “what if I inherited what he’s got?”

This time it was Mendel’s turn to make a face, that of blatant confusion. 

“Well, and him and Whizzer live like…” he looked slightly at a loss for words, gesturing vaguely. 

A light bulb clicked in Mendel’s brain as he realized what Jason was referring to. 

“Jason,” he said slowly, and Jason turned to face him. Before they continued he really needed to clarify. 

“Look, I know the kids at school might have been saying stuff, but being gay isn’t going to kill you, and you won’t be gay because he is, okay?”

Jason looked up at him, brown eyes wide. 

“Okay,” he said nodding.

And Mendel believed he understood, he was a smart kid, that much was _abundantly_ clear. 

Jason bit his lip again, deep in thought. 

Mendel waited patiently. 

Suddenly, he opened his mouth, a spew of half-yelled questions smacking him as he stood up. 

“What do I do? What do I say? How do I ask? What do I hope for? Is it my mind? Love isn’t free. Love is blind, so what am I supposed to see?”

Jason finished, breathing heavily, looking down at Mendel expectantly. 

It took his brain a moment to comprehend what all Jason had just said. 

When he got his bearings, he leapt up, and clapped his hands down on Jason’s shoulders. 

“Hey! Stop!”

Jason looked at him, startled. 

‘Look around you,” Jason did, noting the fireplace, full of family photos, the couches, the chair in the corner. 

“No one’s screaming at you right?” he asked, and Jason started to respond, but Mendel steamrolled past. 

“So, you feel alright, for what, ten minutes?” Jason nodded. 

“Feel alright for twenty, forty!” Jason nodded again, seeming unconvinced. 

“Drop it and smile! Feel alright for the rest of your life!” he half-yelled enthusiastically, and Jason looked at him like he’d grown a third head. 

“Is this therapy?” He asked incredulously, eyebrow raised. 

Mendel was saved from replying when Trina poked her head in apologetically. 

“It’s ten past time, Mendel,” she said patiently, and Mendel glanced at her before glancing down at his watch, his jaw nearly dropping at how fast time had gone by.

“So sorry Trina! Well, Jason, same time next week?” he turned back to Jason, sticking his hand out to him. 

“I guess,” he mumbled, trudging out of the room towards what was probably his room. 

“Thank you for having me over,” Trina, he said, smiling warmly at her, and if her face slightly reddened, he didn’t make a comment. 

5 Weeks Later

~~~~~~~~~

Trina stood in the kitchen for the fifth week in a row, staring down at her finished dish. She guessed this counted more as dinner, not lunch, especially as Mendel had been gradually coming later every week. 

_It was technically overtime, should she?_

She shrugged her shoulders. _Eh, fuck it._

Trina picked up the plate, carefully keeping it balanced as she took it to the living room, knocking and receiving a _come in._

“I figured you guys might want some food,” she said, holding up the dish. “It's a gourmet version of chicken marengo.”

Mendel stood up eagerly, probably hungry. Jason begrudgingly stood too, and they both followed Trina back to the table and sat down. She watched them eagerly scoop out servings. 

“That took me all day you know,” she said, trying her best to not sound as if she was bragging. 

Mendel looked up at that, mid-swallow. 

At his look, she relinquished. “It was worth the time, don’t worry.” She said, waving her hand nonchalantly. 

_That was a lie._

Mendel smiled at her, making her face flush as she smiled back. “It’s good,” he said, and Trina’s face flushed again. 

~~~~~~~~~

 _“Why_ is he _always_ here?” Marvin asked exasperatedly to his lover as he glanced into the living room, staring daggers into the back of Mendel’s head. Mendel had been coming to see Jason for four months now. 

Whizzer badly stifled a laugh at this that earned him a glare. 

He rolled his eyes at this, walking away from Marvin, headed for the kitchen, and Marvin followed, even though he told himself it was because they were going in the same direction. 

“The psychiatrist returninnng, returnnnnnnning.” he sang in a sing-song voice, his voice carrying down the hall, surely doing it only to further piss off Marvin, and it worked.

Whizzer finally turned, walking backwards, to face Marvin, and he looked at him, unamused. 

“Oh _Marvin_ , get the _stick_ out of your ass. Why do you care so much, anyway? Wasn’t this all your idea?” he asked snidely, leaning against the wall next to the kitchen door, arms crossed across his white, dress-shirt clad chest. 

“Hello Trina,” he saw Whizzer greet from the doorway, and Trina distractedly waved. 

Marvin had noticed it, they’d gone from strained acquaintances to...marginally more friendly. He’s not sure what happened. 

~~~~~~~~~

In the midst of another session, Mendel heard a commotion coming from the hallway, turning his head slightly to see Marvin disappearing from sight. 

_Oh great._

He turned back to Jason, who over the past couple months he felt like he’d sorta bonded with. Jason seemed to trust him as well. 

“Hold on, I need your parents for something.” He said to him, turning on his heel to retrieve Marvin and Trina. While he was here, he could try and work with them all together. 

“Trina, Marvin, could you join Jason and I in the den?” he called from the entrance to the kitchen, and they both turned, before following him. He turned and made his way down the hallway, two of his clients now in tow. 

He glanced up at the doorway after gesturing for Jason’s parents to sit on the sofa taking seats to the left and right of Jason. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Whizzer watching from the doorway. 

“Okay.” he started, standing in front of the couch where they all sat, feeling a bit like he was giving a school report in front of his class. “From what Jason’s told me, there’s a lot of dysfunction here.” He heard a quiet snort from the doorway that he ignored. 

“So, try to forget what life was like before you two divorced, you aren’t married anymore. Try not to be snide. And, try and think back to your marriage for a moment. Talking to both of you, it wasn’t as good as you recall, try and view it realistically.”

They both looked at him, skeptical, but he pressed on. “If you do that, if you can _move on_ , you can heal as a family.” He fidgeted with his hands, letting what he said sink in. 

Jason piped up. “ _This_ is therapy?”

They all eagerly turned to him. “Yes, yes it is.”

“So,” he gestured, “scram.” Both of his parents looked ofronted but Whizzer laughed quietly, and Mendel had to suppress a laugh as well. 

“I- that was all I needed from you both,” he said, shrugging apologetically. 

They both got up, making for the door, and Mendel looked up to see them all leave, Whizzer among them, before sitting back down on the couch with Jason where Marvin’d been sitting. 

“Did you wanna tell me something, Jason?”

“Mr. Mendel,” he began as soon as they’d all left.

“Kid, I’ve told you, call me Mendel.” he said quickly, before he could continue. 

“Mendel, as regarding your intentions to my mother,” Mendel’s face went bright red and he looked at Jason, shocked. 

“Uh, uh- no,” he started, wanting desperately to leave the room, attempting to stand up. 

Jason grabbed onto his shirt, tugging until he begrudgingly sat down again. 

“Your intentions, are they everything a woman would desire?” Mendel’s face reddened somehow more, and Jason seemed to notice. 

“Her hand’s ready, you know, only needs a ring.” Mendel gulped. 

_Dear god._

“I’ll sing, buy confetti.” he offered, shrugging. 

Mendel said nothing. This ten year old was playing wingman for his mother. 

“I’m embarrassed, you know, It's not my responsibility to ask you, but I wonder if it's ever crossed your mind?” Jason said, gesturing awkwardly. 

_God, this kid really was too smart for his own good. Definitely Marvin’s child._ He didn’t like where this was going. 

But, he allowed himself to consider it for a moment, actually dating Trina. It sounded nice. But then he spiraled, thinking all the what-ifs. 

A thousand questions flooded his brain, pelting him. 

_What do I say? Where do I look? Why do I laugh? How do I answer? Is it my mind? Love isn't free, if love isn't blind, what do I see? Why? What? How? When? Trina was a goddess, she deserved a king, not some peasant. He was a thirty-four year old psychiatrist who was awkward, and couldn’t flirt to save his life, he didn’t deserve her._

He was lost in thought when Jason grabbed his shoulders, mimicking what Mendel had shown him their first session. It would have been cute if it didn’t startle the bejeezus out of him. 

“Look around you!” he did as he was told, noting that same mantel with the picture frames on it, the end table within arm’s reach, the chair in the corner. The voices in his head calmed. 

Jason hurriedly continued. “Look, lots of nice furniture. Someone who brings you lunch and dinner. Someone who washes your... _socks_.” 

Mendel glanced down at his feet as Jason made a face. 

“Feel alright, Mr. Mendel! Feel alright for the rest of your life, Mendel!” In the second instance of his name he corrected himself. 

Mendel smiled, trying to humor him, and the voice in his head calmed down even more. 

Jason relinquished his shoulders. 

“Feel alright, Jason!” he said enthusiastically, and Jason smiled. 

“Feel alright, Mendel!” he said, matching his tone. 

He reached over and ruffled his hair, and Jason smiled, before hugging him tightly. He put his arms around the kid, rubbing his back slightly.

Jason let go just in time for them both to hear Trina calling his name from the doorway. 

They both turned and Jason got up quickly to see what she wanted. Suddenly he was dragging his alarmed mother with him back to where Mendel was by the arm, finally getting to the sitting area and gesturing for his mother to sit on the chair. 

She sat, confused, looking back and forth at the two boys in the room. This was really starting to feel like some weird version of Parent Trap. 

Just as either of them had recovered from the surprise enough to ask him what was going on, he stood up abruptly. 

“This is how you make a Marriage Proposal.” he stated smiling at Mendel like he’d done him a favor, before sprinting from the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have looked up when Parent Trap came out because I wanted Mendel to make that reference but didn't know if it'd work. It came out in 1961 if anyone was curious.


	10. A Marriage Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short for me, but I really had idea what to do with it for a long time. 
> 
> It's probably not my best work, and I'm sorry for that, but I did try so I hope that counts for something. 
> 
> Also, this song gives me second hand embarrassment and so I tried to sorta encapsulate that vibe, hope I succeeded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Mendel, Marvin, and Jason POV)
> 
> Hello, yes, I am in fact, alive. I'm so so sorry that it's been over a month, I had the WORST case of writer's block for this chapter. I am super super excited for the upcoming chapters though, especially chess game, so now that this one is done I'll be able to work on those more exclusively. 
> 
> My dumbass spent 100 dollars on a video of Andrew Rannells speaking...and honestly I don’t really regret it. Serotonin boost was off the charts. Also, he congratulated me on having a cool name because it’s one of his sister’s names. Genuinely seems like such a nice human being. Also, if anyone wants to see it, as there's nothing personal in it aside from my first name, and he just tells a story from being in Falsettos, you can message me on tumblr and I'll send it. (my username is fangirlmess1)
> 
> On a different note, this chapter was a bit of an ass to write, I had such a hard time trying to figure out what to do with the second half of it. I'm not sure I succeeded this chapter in making this okay, but I ~tried~
> 
> Will say, I did enjoy putting Mendel's internal monologue of just- 'oh, no, you fucked up, time to steamroll right through it.'
> 
> Kudos and Comments are both greatly appreciated and will absolutely make my entire week, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! : )
> 
> \- FangirlMess

5/26/79

As Jason walked out, Trina looked at him, alarmed. 

“Uh,” Mendel cleared his throat, wishing for death. 

He stood up briskly, booking it towards the door. 

_Nope, nope, nope._

Mendel stopped suddenly when he saw Jason still standing there, tapping his foot, looking rather menacing for a ten year old. 

He crossed his arms, and Mendel, ever the chicken, bent to the will of a child, and turned back around. Walking back towards Trina who somehow looked more confused, he glanced back at the doorway to see Jason looking over at him, seeming satisfied, and as he sat down on the ottoman in front of Trina, he nodded, and seeming satisfied, walked away. 

He looked at Trina who was looking down at him, expectantly, but also still very much confused. 

_Uh, well, here goes nothing,_ he thought, mentally stealing himself to do...whatever this was. 

“I-” he began awkwardly. “I love you, dear. I think you are just...swell.”

_God, what are words?_

“And-and, you’re never near me enough, to tell if you think I’m delightful or not.”

She was just watching him baffled, before turning to glance in the doorway, probably to see if this was some kind of joke, but turned back to him when she saw no one. 

He reached for her hand, planting a messy kiss on it. “I crave your wrist, I praise your thigh!”

His hand landed on her thigh and she looked down at it, dumbfounded. 

“There’s uh, there’s not a guy...there’s not a piece of paper, n-not a man in pants who could love you the same as I.”

_Wow, he’d said he loved her twice in two minutes._

He realized absently he was still holding her hand. He squeezed it slightly and she squeezed back, taking his other hand. 

_Well, maybe this isn’t going as horribly as it could be._

He let go of her hands as he frantically stood up, moving on to the next part of his improvised speech. 

“Often times, lover’s are crazy people,”

_Alright, good so far._

“Sometimes they- kill each other.”

_No, no, backtrack._

“You know, just like a biblical brother, did to his biblical brother...back in- biblical times.”

_Biblical times? He wanted to slap his forehead. Embrace it I guess?_

Trina looked up at him politely. “Biblical times?” she asked softly. 

He could almost hear Marvin’s snooty voice in his head, mocking him. _‘Biblical times?’_

“Uh, yes, biblical times.” he said unconfidently, before taking a deep breath. _Why did he care what Marvin thought anyway? If Marvin would probably find it stupid, maybe he should do this._

“Oh yeah, those biblical times!” he said more loudly this time, marginally more confidently. 

Trina smiled up at him. _That was encouraging, she seemed to at least enjoy his speech._

He sat back down on his knees in front of Trina.

“I love your eyes,” he said softly, his face very close to hers, the flecks of golden brown in her eyes reflecting off the ceiling light, making them even more gorgeous to Mendel. 

She leaned slightly closer, smiling softly at the compliment. 

“I love your face,” he breathed, her face only inches from his as he cupped her cheek gently. She leaned into the touch and he was hit with how soft her cheeks were. 

“I want you by my side,” he said, softly again. 

“You know, to take my place if I get sick or detained.” he finished awkwardly. 

_God, and now you’ve ruined it, good going, Mendel._

He moved away from Trina and she awkwardly began to tuck her hair behind her ears, a nervous habit he’d noticed she had over the past few months. 

His hands, feeling like they had minds of their owns, reached forward and grabbed her wrist. 

She looked at him, beyond surprised. 

“Don’t-don’t touch your hair, you’re _perfect.”_

She looked touched, her eyes sparkling with, Mendel noticed, what looked like tears. His heart sank a little. 

“Oh, don’t start to cry, my dear Trina.”

He took one of her hands gently and she grabbed his other. They were looking again into each other’s eyes. And her eyes were so pretty, such a vibrant, beautiful, chocolate brown. 

“There’s not- there’s not a guy, not a- a horse...or zebra,”

_What?_

“N-not a giant man,” he stuttered, “who could love you the same as I.”

Trina smiled genuinely at him, even as he awkwardly fumbled over his words for the seventeenth time in the past two minutes. 

“Uh- forget that giant man,” he said, and Trina nodded, her smile widening, and he could feel her hand moving anxiously up and down his wrist as he spoke. “he won’t love you the same as I.”

“I-I’m not a giant man, but,” Trina laughed quietly, putting one of her hands against his chest, which he held gently, her breath hitting his face softly. “but, I’ll love you until I die.”

He smiled sheepishly at her, their faces inches apart, when she nodded her head, still smiling that sweet smile of hers that made his heart melt, and leaned over to kiss him. 

He cupped her face gently, thumb rubbing up and down her cheek as he felt her arms wrap around his neck. Her lips were soft and warm and _lovely_ and he wished that he could live in this moment forever.

~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Trina-” he started, before his mouth fell open at the sight that greeted him. 

Mendel and Trina were _kissing_. Not even just a quick peck. Their arms were wrapped around each other as they continued like two sexually repressed teenagers. 

Marvin's eyes widened. He was _shocked._

“What the fuck are you doing, Mendel?”

Trina and Mendel quickly let go of each other, gaping at Marvin who was stood in the doorway. 

“She-she kissed me first,” Mendel said shakily like a teenage boy caught by his parents, running a nervous hand through his dark, curly hair.

 _I divorced my wife...she ran off with my shrink. What? Sure I wanted a wife, no, ex-wife, who knows what love is, but...not with_ him. 

Marvin just stared at Mendel, at the moment, speechless. 

Abruptly a thought crossed his mind. _He’s taking my family._

Suddenly Marvin was filled with rage and he stormed over to the two of them. 

“You are taking _my family_ , get OUT of MY HOUSE!”

“It’s not even your house,” Mendel countered, seeming to get courage. 

_“Exactly,”_ Trina butted in, “this is _my_ house, and he stays!”

Marvin folded his arms across his chest like a petulant child, fuming. 

“What the fuck are you _doing_ Mendel? Seriously, what the _hell_ ?! You’re taking my _wife_ from me!”

Trina fumed at this. “Your wife- you’re gay!” Marvin’s face went red at this, “We are _divorced_ , I am _not_ your _property,_ and I am definitely not your wife!”

~~~~~~~~~

Jason was watching in mild shock from the doorway as his parents and Mendel argued. 

_This wasn’t how it was meant to go._ He frowned, the yelling scaring him, but he was transfixed by it all, unable to move, feeling frozen where he stood, his hand grasping the doorframe. 

He seemed to go unnoticed by the adults, too busy yelling at each other to notice that a child was watching it all play out. 

He had just heard Mendel say that his father _‘had Whizzer’_ when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. 

He turned to see Whizzer, the very man who his mother had just talked about, smiling in a way that Jason could tell was forced. 

_He was pretty good at telling when adults were faking it, he saw his mom do it all the time before her and his dad divorced._

“Why don’t we go somewhere else, hmm, Jace?” he said quietly, brown eyes darting to glance into the room of the still-bickering adults before meeting his again.

Jason nodded in agreement and grabbed his hand, pulling him up to his room, where he knew the noise of downstairs arguments were largely muffled. He sat down onto his bed, wordlessly, before picking up his chess set and playing against himself. He slammed the pieces down with too much force and Whizzer definitely noticed, as he came and sat down softly next to him. 

Jason felt Whizzer’s arm wrap around him in a hug as he leaned down and he said quietly, “I’m sorry you’re dealing with this shit, kiddo, it’s gonna be okay.”

Jason said nothing, though he very much appreciated the gesture. 

_Why was it that the person in his life the shortest amount of times, was better at making him feel better?_

He looked up at Whizzer who was still rubbing his shoulder. He smiled weakly and Whizzer smiled the same smile back, before he fully embraced the hug, pressing his head against his dad’s boyfriend’s chest, Whizzer’s arm running up and down his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andrew Rannells just seems genuinely like one of the nicest people on the planet, if anyone was curious


	11. March of the Falsettos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty much March of the Falsettos only in name because I've always interpreted that song as a weird dream of Trina's. 
> 
> So this chapter is mostly Trina's internal monologuing, loosely based around both Trina's Song and Trina's Song (Reprise) though it was pretty fun to write so I hope you like it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Trina's POV)
> 
> Alright, I'm back again, and super super excited for the next couple chapters. This one was actually pretty fun but I've seriously been so excited to post the chapter for The Chess Game for forever. 
> 
> I hope everyone is having a wonderful Monday (or whatever day of the week it is when you read this), I myself am ignoring my math teacher to post this like the ~good student~ I am. 
> 
> Also, this chapter as a cute Trindel moment and I've discovered writing happy Trindel is very fun. 
> 
> Kudos and Comments are both greatly appreciated and will absolutely make my entire week, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! : )
> 
> \- FangirlMess

5/26/79 - 5/27/79

Eventually, the argument simmered down. Trina watched from the doorway as Marvin left the house in a huff, before coming right back inside, still fuming, when he realized Whizzer wasn’t with him.

Whizzer trudged down the stairs after his boyfriend, her son trailing behind them. Trina watched, a bystander, as a rather cute moment unfolded, Whizzer kneeling down by the door, Marvin impatiently watching, still fuming, and hugged her son tightly, before the two left. 

She watched Jason sulk back upstairs and pursed her lips. 

Several moments later, Mendel came over to her, telling her he had to go home. He kissed her cheek tentatively, and she nodded, watching him take his jacket from the coat rack and leaving. 

Trina stood there for several more moments before she walked into the kitchen, sighing to herself, washing off a sponge and getting to work on the many dishes occupying the sink. 

As she did so, her mind began to wander to what had just gone down. 

She was just so, so tired of the immature men in her life... And that included her now fiancé. 

Sure, she’d taken part in the argument, but only out of defense, Marvin had started it, throwing a fit about something out of his control, which was, sadly, rather normal of him. Mendel had been the one to get goaded into Marvin’s bate in the first place. 

Sure, she’d said a few things, because someone had to knock Marvin down a bit, but she didn’t want to argue. She was so sick of arguing with Marvin. 

The last almost year of their marriage was full of fights. She’d grown suspicious of all his late nights, and the nights he’d not come home at all. However, she never dared to put it together, what it all meant. For the sake of her sanity, she pretended she did not know the implications all pointed to her husband cheating on her. 

The worst part was he seemed so much happier when he came home from some late night, or returned early the next morning. 

_Who was so much better than her? Some woman?_

And he smelled of perfume that she didn’t use. She later realized that it was Whizzer’s cologne, but that's neither here nor there. 

Though the smile always came right off his face and into a scowl when he saw her sitting at the kitchen table looking pointedly at him, or looking at him crossly from her side of the bed, preparing to fight with her. 

Picking up a cup with probably more force than necessary, judging by the sharp clang of metal on metal as it hit the inside of the sink, she began feverishly scrubbing the inside of it with her sponge. 

She’d met Marvin when he was twenty-two, and boy was he immature. But she liked him anyway. She had thought maybe he just needed to grow up; but he never did. If anything he acted more like an indignant child the longer she was married to him. 

Her ex-husband and her fiancé had argued about whose family was who’s, whose wife was who’s, like she was some toy to toss around on the playground. But no, she was a real person, and their actions had consequences, as much as they both, though especially Marvin, refused to acknowledge. 

Trina appreciated Mendel defending her, but she felt the whole thing was so very childish and dumb. 

The whole thing reminded her of their scene at the synagogue; the men, no, boys, in her life, making a fool of themselves while she watched on. For once, Whizzer hadn’t eagerly jumped into an argument like she saw him do so often with Marvin, and was absent from the whole affair. 

She’s actually not sure where he went, now she thinks about it. 

Her hands searched through the soapy water for another dish, realizing that she there were no more. 

_Time to deal with dinner, then._

Dinner tended to be pretty mindless for her, having done it nearly every night for over ten years, and sometimes she’d listen to the radio on the portable stereo she had on the counter. But today she opted to entertain her thoughts as she went about preparing pasta and heating up the red sauce for spaghetti and meatballs. 

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair, though it had been most days since Marvin moved out except when him and Whizzer were over. 

She glanced over at her son, who had chosen to sit all the way across the table from her. His brow was furrowed as he dragged one of his meatballs across his plate. 

“Jason, honey,” she said quietly but firmly. 

Jason looked up. 

“Ten-year-olds don’t play with their food.” It was not demanding, just a statement, a reminder. 

He scowled down at his plate, stabbing the meatball and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. 

And Trina gives up. So be it, he’s had an interesting day. 

_God, all the men in her life act like her ten-year-old son._ She thought, dejectedly, watching Jason shovel pasta into his mouth. 

_Actually,_ she took that back, _Jason is still more mature than them._

Looking back at her mostly cleared plate, she began to finish up her portion. 

One of the chairs made a muffled sound as it was pushed out and then back in, then she heard the clatter of silverware on a plate. Jason’s footsteps retreated into the kitchen and she heard the faint clatter as his plate and fork were set into the sink. 

The sound of footsteps on the stairs told her that her son had gone upstairs. 

Not wanting to be alone at the table, Trina got up as well, taking her plate to the sink and setting it down. She grabbed the sponge once more and began cleaning off everything that had been used for dinner. 

* * *

She sat on Jason’s bed after she knew he’d fallen asleep. He looked so much more at ease when he was asleep, unlike the irritated, stressed out kid he was during the day time. 

She needed to give him more stability, and _this_ , whatever their topsy-turvy life had become, was not stable. 

She stood up then, pulling the duvet a little snugger around her son and brushing his messy curly hair off his forehead with her hand to kiss his forehead lightly, careful not to wake him. 

She got ready for bed in silence, staring into the mirror as she brushed her teeth, lost in thought over her predicament. 

Trina was just so very _tired_ of living like this; and she was tired of anticipating their wants. 

She wasn’t their maid after all, she wasn’t their mother, and yet, she felt like a mother to four sometimes.

The duvet was cold as she finally got to bed, even in April, and it made her involuntarily shiver, 

Every time she climbed into their- no, _her_ bed, it always felt much too big for one person. Oftentimes for months after the divorce, she’d wake up to her arm flung across the side of the bed, like it had searched for Marvin in the night. 

She’d stopped doing that now, resigned to sleeping alone on the left side of the bed; resigned that there was no one else there, no other warm person. 

As Trina reached up to turn off the bedside lamp next to her, her eyes fell on her ring finger. Or more accurately, the one without a ring. She pulled the cord on the lamp, plunging her into darkness. 

Suddenly she realized she’d really thought through Mendel’s proposal. 

She’d marry him, change her life. Trina could almost imagine it, how much happier she’d be with a person she loved and who loved her back, someone who didn’t show the bare minimum affections just to uphold his image. Someone to provide the stability she and Jason deserved.

The thought made her smile slightly to herself as her mind drifted off into a surprisingly quick slumber.

* * *

Trina awoke the next morning to a knock at the front door. 

Rubbing her eyes sleepily, she got up, padding across the room and pulling her robe off the back of the door. 

_Such a bizarre dream,_ she thought, though the details were hazy. 

She stalked down the stairs, eyeing the clock next to the stairs, noting it was 10:30 am. 

She yawned, covering her mouth as she reached the entryway and heard Jason calling that there was someone at the door. 

_Who was knocking at her door at this time in the morning?_ She wondered to herself. _It was a little too early for Jehovah’s Witnesses, though she supposed it wasn’t too early for mormon missionaries. In the many years she’d lived in the neighborhood, she’d seen so many men, boys really, dressed to impress, their hair styled more perfectly than Whizzer’s._

She opened the door to see... Mendel?

Immediately her face reddened at the fact that she was standing on her doorstep, in her pajamas and _bathrobe_ of all things. 

Trina pulled embarrassedly at her robe, doing her best to fully cover up her floral pink and blue pajamas even with the tie for it long lost. 

She looked at Mendel’s face after a moment. His face, likely matching hers, was scarlet: from the tips of his ears poking out of his curly black hair to his lightly freckled cheeks. 

_“_ Um _,”_ she started, utterly at a loss for words. “Mendel? What are you- what are you doing here?”

Mendel cleared his throat, running a nervous hand through his thick hair. 

“Uh well-” he stuttered, smiling nervously. “I called my mom yesterday to tell her I finally got engaged.”

“And she was asking about the ring and then it hit me- I didn’t give you a ring. I’m sorry about that Trina, that’s not what you deserve.”

Trina’s heart skipped a beat. 

_A ring?_ She glanced down at her fingers, looking at the somewhat-present tan line from an old wedding ring on her ring finger. God, she hated that ring after the divorce, she’d taken it to the pawn shop as soon as the final papers were signed.

_As long as you both shall live, my ass._

She realized she’d been staring into space and looked up hurriedly to see a visibly more stressed Mendel still talking, his hands flying about as he rambled on. 

“-So I got one the second they opened.” he was silent for a few moments as he rifled through his sweater pocket before producing a small velvet box. 

“I know I already asked you yesterday, and it’s just a formality, but...Trina, will you marry me?” he opened the box and Trina’s heart started beating rapidly in her chest. 

_It was beautiful_ …

She couldn’t help when her breath caught in her throat. It was nothing like the cheap band Marvin had hastily bought after her dad pressured him into proposing. 

She broke out into a wide grin and nodded, happily saying, “ _Yes, yes, yes_!”

Mendel’s smile matched hers and as soon as he put the ring on her finger she flung her arms around him, bathrobe and floral pajamas and all and kissed him like her life depended on it. 

* * *

As she sighed contentedly and leaned into Mendel’s side on the sofa, she thought about what had been on her mind last night.

She took it all back, well most of it anyway. She could ignore her doubts for now, for once she was _happy_. 

_This_ , she looked up at her fiancé and then to her son who was watching cartoons in the living room chair. _This was nice_. 

She could commit to this. To marry this man, this man she knew cared very much for her, meant getting the life she’d actually been told about as a young girl. 

A nice home, a good kid, and a husband who loved her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help it, there's another reference from Another Sleepless Night from In Trousers. It's not major, but if you spot something that sounds like a reference it almost definitely was.


End file.
